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THE 

VALLEY OF STRIFE 








1 


THE 

VALLEY OF STRIFE 

BY 

MARSHALL R. HALL 



BOSTON 

SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 




COPYRIGHT, 1925 

By SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 

(Incorporated) 


Printed in the United States of America 


THE MURRAY PRINTING COMPANY 
CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 

THE BOSTON BOOKBINDING COMPANY 
CAMBRIDGE, MA9S. 


© Cl A 8 5 5 



53 4 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAC* 

I. Clive Finds a Mystery .... 3 

II. Clive Makes a Resolve .... 20 

III. The War is Opened.33 

IV. The Rangers Gather .... 46 

V. Fire and Conflict.60 

VI. Round-Up Plans are Laid ... 74 

VII. The Fight in the Pass .... 87 

VIII. The Round-Up.103 

IX. Sheep!.117 

X. The Line Riders.133 

XI. The Raid.148 

XII. Aftermath.162 

XIII. Forest Disappears.176 

XIV. The Fight at the Ranch . . . 192 

XV. Clive Takes the Trail .... 209 

XVI. Brindletown.226 

XVII. “Draw, Damn Yuh!” .... 242 

XVIII. The Rustlers Depart .... 259 

XIX. The End of the Trail .... 275 








THE 

VALLEY OF STRIFE 


» 





THE 

VALLEY OF STRIFE 


CHAPTER I 
Clive Finds a Mystery 

Clive Morgan stamped out the last remnant of 
his breakfast fire and turned to the stalwart black 
horse that grazed near by at the end of a picket 
rope. His light travelling pack was already rolled 
and tied in position behind the cantle of his saddle. 
He threw the ensemble across the black’s sturdy 
back, talking gently into the animal’s left ear as he 
drew the cinch tight. 

46 We got to he on our way, Thunder, old hoss. 
We got to find a job if we’re a-goin’ to keep on 
eatin’. ’Course, yuh old sinner, yuh ain’t got no 
worries on that score, for all yuh need is some lush 
grass and yo’re happy; but yore Uncle Dudley, now 
—well, that’s a heap different, as the feller says.” 

He swung lightly into the saddle, touching a 
match to the end of a brown-paper cigarette and 
pinching out the blaze with careful fingers before 
tossing the charred ember aside. Then he urged 
the horse through the tiny stream he had camped 


4 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


beside the night before, and turned it down the dim 
trail he had followed for days through the vast¬ 
ness of the Mogollon range. 

An hour later horse and rider skirted one of 
the countless painted ribs that helped to form the 
Mogollons and came out on a narrow bench, down 
which the trail wound precipitously. The man 
again addressed his mount: 

66 It’s a-goin’ to be tough sleddin’, Thunder, old 
hoss, but I guess we b’en down worse ones than this. 
Get along, yuh old chromo.” 

High overhead hung the perfect blue of the 
Arizona sky, while on either hand the painted ribs 
of the range glowed amber and crimson, yellow 
and brown. In the canyons and gorges the deeper 
shades of purple and blue-black blended in 
sublime harmony. Fresh and dry and warm the 
air carried the pungent scent of wild chokecherries, 
just coming into bloom; of acrid, gray-blue sage 
and strong palo verde. Indian paint brushes 
nodded gay plumes, brightening the scene but lend¬ 
ing no aroma to the fragrant breeze. 

It was a land of sheer delight; Arizona and 
spring. Nowhere on earth did the combination of 
time and place hold more charm, more lure, and 
nowhere was it more prone to awaken the latent 
urge in the human soul, bidding it be up and doing. 

Clive, drawing in great lungfuls of life-giving 
ozone, sighed contentedly, dismissing worry and 
giving himself over to delight in the joys of a per¬ 
fect day. His pony had negotiated the steep 


CLIVE FINDS A MYSTERY 


5 


descent into the foothills and was now loping 
smoothly along the crest of a gently sloping ridge, 
which apparently was leading into a valley. 

A few minutes later man and mount left the 
ridge, crossed a purling stream and came out of the 
canyons and gulches onto a broad, smooth bench, 
where no obstacle rose up to obscure the vision. 
Clive, drinking in the sight thus afforded, swore 
happily. 

Stretching far off on either hand and straight 
ahead was a valley — literally a paradise. Blan¬ 
keted with the first verdant coat of lush grass and 
studded liberally with clumps of cottonwood the 
valley spread away in three directions. 

To the north, towering peaks finally rose up to 
hem it in. Straight out and across the broad, level 
acres, more lofty pinnacles of the Mogollons reared 
their somber crests toward the cerulean blue. To 
the south the mountains closed in again, but not 
so abruptly. In that direction a saddle in the range 
indicated a pass existed, affording comparatively 
easy ingress and egress for the denizens of the 
valley. To the west were the main peaks of the 
Mogollons, from which Clive was even now 
emerging. 

Again he addressed his horse: 

46 That shore is a likely lookin’ prospect for us, 
Thunder. See them cows? See them ranches all 
scattered up and down the river? Don t that look 
like home, old timer? I’ll tell a man it does. We 
got to find a job here, old hoss, and that s all there 


6 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


is to it. Get along now, and mind yore manners 
when we hit civylization ag’in.” 

Thunder moved easily and rapidly down out 
of the hills, never slackening his pace. The valley, 
from Clive’s recent vantage point, had seemed 
extremely near, but he knew this was partly because 
of the magnifying qualities of the Arizona air. 
Therefore, he was not surprised when his watch 
told him a good three hours had elapsed before 
his horse emerged from the last outjutting point 
of the foothills and turned out across the valley’s 
fertile soil. 

Then for Clive began a day devoted to that which 
he hated doing more than anything else in the world 

— hunting a job. An hour after entering the valley 
he rode into a well kept ranchyard and looked 
around. An air of silence hung over the place and 
there was distinctly lacking the usual jovial atmos¬ 
phere of the western cattle ranch. He saw a 
hatchet-faced man sitting on the corral fence and 
asked him concerning prospects for a job. 

A surly negative was the only response his ques¬ 
tion elicited and he turned down a narrow road 
leading to what seemed to be the main highway 

— a highway that led off toward the saddle in the 
hills, miles and miles to the south. It was two 
hours before he reached the next ranch. 

Here his reception was even cooler than the one 
accorded him at the first ranch. It was almost noon 
and the tantalizing odor of cooking things, wafting 
from the kitchen, assailed his nostrils, causing his 


CLIVE FINDS A MYSTERY 


7 


mouth to water and his stomach to gnaw. He had 
visions of a sumptuous dinner surrounded by a 
crowd of boisterous buckaroos, but his visions were 
short-lived. 

A gruff-voiced foreman with only one eye and 
a badly mutilated ear informed him no hands were 
needed, and intimated that it would be as well if 
he skedaddled right along. And once again Clive 
was impressed with the air of unnatural quiet. 
Back on the highway he meditated sourly. 

66 Fine bunch of dodderin’ old dodo birds them 
fellers is. What in hell’s wrong with everybody? 
Yuh’d think, by cripes, I was a cow thief, the way 
they looks at me and insinooates my absence is pre¬ 
ferred to muh comp’ny. Aw, shucks, Thunder; 
mebbe they just got indigesting or somethin’. We’ll 
try the next place.” 

He fancied he was about midway of the valley. 
He was still heading south. He had no way of 
telling how long it would be until he came across 
another ranch, but he did know it would be a con¬ 
siderable time, for before him, as far as his eyes 
could reach across the rolling valley there were 
only vistas of undulating green, clumps of cotton¬ 
wood and grazing herds. Off to his right, a long, 
snaky line of willows and higher, greener cotton¬ 
woods told him a river purled along, probably the 
stream he had visioned earlier in the day from his 
vantage point on the bench. He found the road 
was heading toward it. 

Hunger was beginning to gnaw keenly at his 


8 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


vitals and for a time he considered the advisability 
of stopping and cooking something from the dwind¬ 
ling supplies in his saddle roll. In the end he drew 
the belt of his chaps tighter, lit another cigarette 
and urged Thunder on at a faster pace. 

After a time he passed what apparently was the 
last of the line fences and came out on a vast 
territory of range land, and ideal cattle country. 
Scattered herds of unattended steers grazed here 
and save for the gray-blue clumps of sage, scrub 
cottonwood and an occasional suhuara cactus, the 
earth was a solid mass of tall, luscious grass. 
The river drew nearer and Thunder pricked up 
his ears at the promise of refreshments. 

Keen and sharp, like the crack of a bull-whip, 
the report of a rifle crashed through the stillness of 
the valley. Clive reined in Thunder and gazed 
at a tiny wisp of pale smoke that curled upward 
from some scrub willows, a hundred yards ahead. 
His impulse was to drop from the black’s back and 
seek shelter, but when a second report split the 
silence he decided there was something ahead that 
was worth investigating. 

Touching his stirrups to the horse’s foam-flecked 
sides he urged it onward. His right hand swung 
loosely near the bone-handled grip of a .45 which 
hung at his hip. As he neared the willows his body 
tensed and his gray eyes became more alert. But 
nothing untoward happened. With a rush he 
rounded the willows and paused on the brink of the 
purling stream, a startled oath on his lips. 


CLIVE FINDS A MYSTERY 


9 


In the middle of the river was a buckboard and 
the waters swirled and foamed in an angry torrent 
across the bodies of two dead horses that were still 
fast to the traces. On the seat of the buckboard, 
her body rigid and her eyes fear-filled, sat a girl. 

And such a girl! She was dressed in a flaring 
tan skirt and white shirtwaist, while from her throat 
hung a brilliant scarlet muffler. Her head was bare 
and crowned with a mass of soft brown hair. Her 
face was pale, but her fear had not driven the vivid 
scarlet from her lips, nor marred the perfect con¬ 
tour and form of her beautiful features. 

As Clive, staring at her, regained his breath and 
started to call out, the girl saw him. In a flash her 
rigid pose vanished and the fear in her eyes was 
replaced by flaring hate. Her right hand moved 
upward and forward. Clive saw the gleam of sun¬ 
light on the nickeled barrel of a pistol and even as 
she shot he dropped from the saddle and rolled 
swiftly into the protecting willows. 

“What the hell?” he cried in surprise; then, 
regaining his poise, he peered cautiously through 
the slender trunks, his gaze seeking the girl. She 
was standing, but her revolver was no longer 
aimed; instead, it hung at her side and she obvi¬ 
ously was seeking a glimpse of him. He heard her 
voice: 

“ Whoever you are, I beg your pardon. I 
thought it was you who shot my horses, but I see I 
was mistaken. Please come out.” 

Clive raised his head a trifle. 


10 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


46 Are yuh dead shore yuh won’t take no more pot 
shots at me, ma’am?” he called. 

46 1 shan’t shoot,” she replied. 44 1 see by your 
horse that you are not the man I took you for. He 
was riding a piebald.” 

Clive left the willow clump and regained his 
mount, swinging lightly into the saddle and urging 
the animal forward into the stream. Beside the 
buckboard he. drew rein and lifted his broad- 
brimmed, dimpled sombrero, hanging it across his 
saddle-horn. 

44 Yuh seem to be havin’ a heap of trouble, 
ma’am,” he observed mildly, eyeing her calmly. 
44 Can I help yuh any?” 

44 You can help me out of this buckboard and 
set me on dry land,” she answered, thrusting her 
gun into a businesslike holster that swung from a 
belt about her slender waist. 

Clive set his hat slantingly on his moist brown 
locks and maneuvered his horse close to the buck- 
board. The girl stepped to the top of a wheel and 
leaned toward him. He reached out and clasped 
her in one lithe, muscular arm, swinging her against 
his side. Holding her thus he pointed his pony’s 
head toward the shore opposite to that he had 
recently vacated. 

He felt the girl’s lithe form pressed against him, 
felt the cling of her soft, firmly-moulded arms. A 
wisp of her hair blew across his face and he 
breathed of some subtle aroma that hinted of the 
mystery that is woman. His arm held her firmly. 


CLIVE FINDS A MYSTERY 


11 


Twenty feet beyond the water’s edge he stopped 
the black, leaned down and deposited the girl gently 
on her feet. Then he dropped quickly from the 
saddle and stood before her, hat in hand. 

66 There yuh are, ma’am,” he said easily. 66 I’m 
oncommon su’prised at findin’ yuh like I did, and 
I’d plumb admire to be a-hearin’ how yuh come to 
be in such a dang’ onhandy fix.” 

The girl’s face was still pale and he saw that 
she was trembling. It was the reaction from the 
strain of her recent adventure working on her, and 
he suggested that she find a seat on a fallen willow 
near by; but she shook her head, her eyes darting 
about her, a worried look in their depths. 

She gazed at him searchingly and something she 
saw in his eyes perhaps made her more at ease. 
After a moment she said: 

66 1 was where you found me because a hidden 
gunman shot my horse.” She endeavored to make 
her voice firm. 66 1 did not see his face, but I know 
he rode a piebald horse. I glimpsed the animal 
immediately after the second shot, when the man 
rode upstream under cover of the willows. I think 
he heard your horse’s hoof-beats and was frightened 
off. At first I thought you were his confederate; 
that is why I shot at you.” 

66 But what is the idea of anybody shootin’ yore 
hosses, ma’am?” 

It was a natural question under the circum¬ 
stances, and one that ordinarily would call for an 
answer. The girl shook her head, a little sadly. 


12 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


46 1 don’t know you, nor how much I can say to 
you. I have said things before, to my sorrow. 
What outfit are you riding for?” 

For the first time Clive grinned. 

44 Me? I’m a-workin’ for the first hombre that 
hires me. Just at the present my only occupation is 
huntin’ a place to sling my turkey and shove muh 
feet under a chuck table. In short, as yuh prob’ly 
surmise by now, I ain’t got any more job than a 
horned-toad’s got whiskers.” 

The girl appeared surprised and a little sus¬ 
picious. Clive found himself wondering if she 
were about to exhibit the same spirit of sullen 
unrest he had found elsewhere in this valley; if 
she, too, were going to turn out to be sour and surly. 
She looked at him keenly. 

44 Then, what on earth are you doing here?” 

44 I’m a-doin’ the most natural thing in the world, 
ma’am — lookin’ for a job, and I’m a-needin’ one 
mighty bad. I was just a-tellin’ Thunder, that’s my 
hoss, there, this mornin’ that if I didn’t get a job 
purty soon I’d have to quit eatin’. ’Course, that 
didn’t worry Thunder none, ’cause he can most 
always find some lush grass and when he’s got 
plenty of that he’s happy. A caballo like Thunder 
don’t know how gosh dang’ lucky he is.” 

44 How long have you been here?” she ques¬ 
tioned. 

44 1 pree-sume yuh mean how long since I hit 
this valley, and it ain’t no trouble to answer that. 
I blowed out of the Mogollons (he pronounced it 


CLIVE FINDS A MYSTERY 


13 


Mokiyones) this mornin’ shortly after sunrise and 
I be’n here ever since. ’Tain’t be’n much of a visit, 
though; leastwise, I wouldn’t call it such. First 
place I hits up for a job, I’m given the high sign 
to pull muh leather and pull it quick. I reaches 
another place, Tong about noon, and they was 
a-cookin’ dinner. Say, them onmannerly cusses 
didn’t even invite me to chaw. Foreman told me 
to skedaddle and keep right on skedaddlin’ till I 
got tired. I was a-hittin’ it down this-a-way to 
find another ranch when I heard a shot and then 
another. I come a-runnin’ to find you high and 
skeered out there in that water.” 

The girl was betraying fresh symptoms of nerv¬ 
ousness. She was plainly anxious about some¬ 
thing. 

“ I hardly know how to take you. You seem to 
be truthful, yet I have been deceived so many times 
that I am fearful of trusting any one. However, 
we must not remain here. That rifleman may 
return and he may bring help. If he does, we 
do not want to be found here. Your revolver would 
be no match for a rifle; besides, I have had enough 
excitement for one day. Come, we will go.” 

66 Whatever yuh say,” replied Clive. 66 But 
where’ll we go?” 

The girl again glanced at him keenly. 

66 Will your horse carry double?” she asked 
quickly. 

66 Ma’am, that horse’ll do most anything I tell 
him, even to tryin’ to stand on his haid. You just 


14 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


climb aboard and I’ll swing up behind yuh, then 
we’ll be off whichever way yuh want to head.” 

Without further ado she swung into the saddle 
and he vaulted up behind her, swaying gracefully 
as the black took a restless, tentative step forward. 
The girl picked up the bridle reins and touched a 
smooth-heeled boot to Thunder’s ribs. Despite his 
double load and the fact that he had already 
travelled far that day, the black sprang forward 
swiftly and easily and the girl felt a quick glow of 
interest in the handsome, high-headed animal. 

For a half hour they rode in silence through rich 
and verdant range-land. There were no fences 
anywhere, as is to be desired in your ideal cattle 
country, and Clive recognized the fact that they 
were crossing open range, where the herds of a 
dozen outfits had been turned out to graze pending 
the round-up and the sorting of brands. It was 
any man’s land and no man’s land, all in one. 
After a while the girl straightened a little in the 
saddle, then pulled Thunder sharply to the right 
and they set off along a dimly outlined wagon trail. 

Clive ventured a question. 

“ I take it yo’re headed for a ranch, ma’am?” 

She gave a dispirited nod. 

64 We are going to the Swinging J,” she replied. 
66 That is, we are going to what is left of it.” 

He ventured again. 

66 Would they, do you think, now, be a-needin’ of 
a top hand over that-a-way?” 

At this the girl laughed mirthlessly. 


CLIVE FINDS A MYSTERY 


15 


“Now I know you are a stranger here,” she 
said, “ else you would not be asking that question. 
The Swinging J just now is little more than a 
name.” 

Clive sighed. 

“ It shore does seem that I just naturally can’t 
pick up a job nohow; it shore does beat the band 
the way a job just keeps one jump ahead of me all 
the time. It’s gettin’ to be plumb oncanny, by 
* cripes.” 

The girl was instantly sympathetic, turning her 
head so she could see his face. 

“ I am sorry you have no work and if there 
was any place for you on the Swinging J I would 
gladly give it to you. But just now the Swinging 
J ranch consists of some thousands of acres of 
ground, some steers, myself and one Chinaman. 
Even the steers and the Chink may be gone before 
we arrive.” She spoke bitterly and Clive pondered. 

66 Yuh shore have got me guessin’, ma’am. 
Would this Swingin’ J, now, by any chance, be 
yore n r 

She nodded, urging Thunder to a faster pace and 
swaying gracefully as the black broke into a 
smooth, uninterrupted lope. 

66 ’Tain’t none of my business, like, but I’d 
plumb admire to be knowin’ if yuh be’n havin’ 
trouble with yore ranch. Somehow, I gets the im¬ 
pression all ain’t merry here, so’s to speak.” 

^ The girl laughed again, with even less mirth in 
her tones. 


16 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


66 Trouble?” she repeated. 44 That is all I have 
had; all I have known since I came here to live, and 
it has finally driven me to the point where I am 
getting out.” 

66 Are yuh aimin’ to sell yore holdin’s here, 
ma’am?” 

44 Who would buy? No, I shall not sell. The 
Swinging J and all its vast acres will revert to 
what they were before I came to them. For ten 
years it lay idle and run down, its acres the prey 
of all the cowmen of this valley. Then I came here 
and started my own herds and have had a constant 
fight ever since.” 

Clive reached up a tentative forefinger and 
scratched his nose. 

44 Then yo’re sort of quittin’ under fire, like?” 
His voice held a subtle barb, and it evidently went 
home, as he intended it should, for she retorted 
rather sharply: 

44 What do you know about it, Mister Man? You 
don’t know what I’ve gone through; you don’t 
know what it is to watch your herds vanish, see your 
hands turn traitor and leave you, see your lands 
run over by herds that legally have no right there, 
and — yes, even be threatened with an invasion of 
sheep!” 

44 Hell!” he ejaculated. Then, 44 1 beg yore par¬ 
don, ma’am; that sorta slipped out. When yuh said 
4 sheep ’ I just naturally had to swear.” 

44 Granted,” she answered. 44 Now, we are com¬ 
ing to the ranch. I have enough supplies, thank 


CLIVE FINDS A MYSTERY 


17 


heaven, to set us up a hot meal and then you might 
as well be riding on. Perhaps you can pick up 
something at Bender’s, about twelve miles south of 
me. But if you wish, you are welcome at the 
Swinging J for the time being, even though I have 
no job to offer you.” 

66 Thank yuh, ma’am,” he said gently. “ I shore 
would like to ketch on down this-a-way. Yuh see 
I’ve always hankered to punch cows in Arizony. I 
generally have ranged up ’round Montany, but the 
winters there sorta got to me and I drifted into 
Wyomin’. That wasn’t no better and I lit into 
Texas, where I hooked up with the Rangers for a 
spell. But I got lonesome for cows and tired of 
man rustlin’ all the time and wantin’ to git out 
this-a-way, I chucked the Ranger business and 
here I am. Begins to look like it’s a-goin’ to be 
6 here I go ’ in a minute, though. Don’t seem like 
there is any jobs over here a-tall.” 

A new interest was in the girl’s voice when she 
spoke again. 

“ So you were a Ranger?” 

“ Yeh,” he answered carelessly. 66 1 was with 
them Texas riders ’bout three years. When I got 
lonesome for the range-land, them hombres all said 
Arizony Territory was the place to hit out for. 
That coincided with my own idees, yuh see, and 
that’s another reason I’m here.” 

44 I’m glad you told me that,” she said. 64 1 feel, 
somehow, that my first judgment of you was cor¬ 
rect. You are an honest man and not allied with 


18 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


the valley element that is seeking to drive me off 
my own range.” 

He started. 

66 I’m beginning to see things better, ma’am. 
Yo’re in trouble here and yuh thought I was one of 
that flea-bitten bunch that’s after yuh; now, didn’t 
yuh? Well, yuh c’n just ree-vise yore opinion.” 

64 1 have,” she replied. 66 What is your name?” 
For the first time she evinced interest in him from a 
personal standpoint. 

64 Clive Morgan,” he answered promptly. 44 In 
Montany they called me 4 Shoshone ’ ’cause I was 
homed in the Shoshone country; in Wyomin’ they 
called me 4 Cactus,’ and in the Rangers they called 
me 4 Tex.’ Yuh c’n call me whatever yuh please 
down here, I reckon.” 

44 My name is Glade,” said the girl. 44 My par¬ 
ents, evidently of poetic bent, saw fit to tack onto 
me the front name of Forest; rather silly, isn’t it?” 

Clive considered a moment, a grin on his face. 

44 Oh, I don’t know, ma’am; Forest Glade is a 
right pert name, seems to me. It sounds like things 
yuh read in books; makes me think of the Montany 
mountings, all covered with spruce and fir and 
pine forests. There shore is plenty of forests 
there, too, I’d tell a man, but I’m not so shore about 
the glade. What is a glade, anyways?” 

Despite the strain she so palpably labored under 
the girl laughed, a brief, silvery peal. 

44 You seem to have a sense of humor and poesy 
yourself, at any rate,” she said, 44 and that is 


CLIVE FINDS A MYSTERY 


19 


something that is sorely needed here. I think I 
am glad I met you, Clive Morgan.” 

44 Same to you, ma’am,” responded the gallant 
Clive. 

66 Please stop calling me 6 ma’am,’ ” she com¬ 
manded, 46 else I shall withdraw my invitation to 
dine. It sounds to much as though I were a school- 
ma’am.” 

44 Whatever yuh say ma’— I mean, miss,” said 
Clive, flustered briefly. 


CHAPTER II 
Clive Makes a Resolve 

After a time Clive, looking over the girl’s shoul¬ 
der, saw a huge grove of cottonwoods, in which 
rested a rambling building of dirty white, having 
every appearance of being rundown and neglected. 
To the rear of this structure and just outside the 
cottonwoods was a large barn. Near this was a 
corral, but it held pitifully few horses. Around 
to one side and in the shade of the huge trees, 
was a long, narrow building with many windows. 
Clive knew this was the bunkhouse. For the rest, 
he saw the usual outbuildings to be found on any 
western cattle ranch, a wagon sitting idly before 
the barn, a rickety buggy and many rusted agri¬ 
cultural implements. 

As they rode into the cottonwoods he realized 
how badly neglected the place was. The paint 
on the buildings was faded and worn, while fences 
needed repairs. The corral sagged in a dozen 
places and the plows, mowing machine and what 
tools were visible were grimy and in a sore state 
of dis-repair. The barn doors hung on hinges that 
were loose and the bunkhouse windows were shat¬ 
tered in a dozen places. Weeds and grass grew 
high and rank in the yard and even the small 
picket fence that enclosed the grounds about the 
house was tumbled and broken. 

20 


CLIVE MAKES A RESOLVE 


21 


In the yard Clive slid from the horse and helped 
the girl to alight. 

“ Turn the horse into the corral, Mr. Morgan. 
You will find feed there, and water. Come to the 
house immediately and we shall have something 
to eat.” 

He watched her as she walked through the open 
picket gate, crossed the broad veranda that sur¬ 
rounded the house on three sides, and vanished in a 
doorway. Then he led Thunder to the corral, 
pulled off saddle, blanket and bridle and turned 
the animal inside, carefully closing the rickety gate. 
Two minutes later he was crossing the broad ver¬ 
anda and entering the house. 

If the outside of the structure showed evidence 
of neglect, the interior did not. It was scrupulously 
clean and tastefully appointed. Forest greeted him 
in the large living room, indicating a chair. 

66 Sit down, please, and rest. Charley Long, my 
cook, is still on the job. He will have a meal ready 
for us in a few minutes.” 

Clive dropped into a chair, letting his hat fall to 
the floor. The girl chose another chair near by and 
sat facing him. He felt a tug at his heart strings 
as he noted the look of utter sadness in her counte¬ 
nance, the total lack of spirit he found there. He 
found her, however, distinctly fair to look upon. 
From her heavy, dark brown hair to her trim, 
small feet, she was all feminine. Her eyes were 
a shade between brown and black and her face 
was finely formed and of regular features. She 


22 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


was just under medium height, slim-waisted and 
lithe. He wondered, seeing that she was so beauti¬ 
ful even in her despondent mood, what she would 
be like were happy smiles to chase each other 
across her face. 

For her part, Forest found Clive to be a man 
among men. His tall, muscular body was barrel¬ 
chested, slim-waisted and lithe; his face, not exactly 
handsome, nevertheless was clean-cut and strong, 
and his steady gray eyes seemed to send out 
something that inspired confidence and trust. He 
wore a black shirt, black, high crowned sombrero, 
neatly dimpled; Angora chaps and the usual high- 
heeled, be-spurred boots of the cow country. A 
black silk kerchief was knotted about his throat. 
As she watched, he unbuckled his six-gun and 
dropped it beside his hat on the floor. 

“ Yuh shore I ain’t a-troublin’ yuh none about 
this eatin’ here?” he asked. 

66 On the contrary, I am glad to have you,” she 
answered. “ Besides, I haven’t thanked you for 
coming to my aid out there on Cougar Creek. I 
probably would have had to wade ashore and 
walk all the way here if you had not so provi¬ 
dentially happened along.” 

“ That brings back what yuh was a-sayin’ when 
we arrived here,” Clive said. 66 I’d plumb admire 
to know more about it. ’Course, I ain’t a-wantin’ 
to pry into yore affairs any, but I’m just a curious 
cuss on account of my nature, I reckon.” 

66 It is natural that you are curious, under the 


CLIVE MAKES A RESOLVE 


23 


circumstances. However, it is quite a story and I 
doubt if it would interest you. Besides, I am leav¬ 
ing the ranch and shall thus end my troubles.” 

He considered a moment before answering, then 
said: 

66 Are yuh really leavin’ this place, Miss Glade, 
or are yuh bein’ drove off?” 

There was a defiant light in her eyes and a bitter¬ 
ness in her voice when she answered. 

66 From your way of looking at things, I am being 
driven away. Not that it concerns you, but in 
answer to your question.” 

66 1 knowed I was a-hornin’ into somethin’ that 
was none of my business,” he countered contritely, 
66 but it was ’cause I hated to see yuh bein’ chased 
off yore own ranch like yuh was some danged 
c’yote or wolf that I spoke. Why don’t yuh stay 
and fight ’em, Miss?” 

Wearily, Forest shook her head, her despond¬ 
ency again upon her, stifling the brief flare of 
spirit she had shown. 

64 It is useless. I cannot fight them alone and I 
cannot get hands to come here and help me to run 
the ranch. The only way I can live here is to run 
steers and sell them; without help that is impos¬ 
sible. Besides, when I did have fat herds and 
many of them, I was constantly being made the 
victim of raids and rustling parties. Today, out 
of all the vast herds I owned not more than a year 
ago, I have fewer than a thousand head. They are 
running wild on the range at this very minute and 


24 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


I am unable to round them up, count them and 
sell them.” 

64 That’s shore too bad, Miss; for a fact it is.” 

66 When I leave I suppose I shall just forget those 
steers. They will be absorbed into the valley herds 
where, I have no doubt, the remainder of my stock 
vanished long since.” 

46 Shucks, Miss; it seems to me the main trouble 
yo’re up ag’in’ right now is to get enough hands to 
fight yore battles, and if yuh had a bunch of hard 
ridin’ hombres down here that wouldn’t be afraid 
to sling a six-gun or pull on a rope yuh’d be all set 
for a finish fight. Ain’t that so?” 

44 Essentially, that is true, Mr. Morgan. Had my 
hands remained loyal and helped me to run down 
the raiders who thinned my herds, poisoned my 
water holes and shot my horses, then there might 
have been a different story to tell.” 

44 Then why don’t yuh send out and get another 
flock of riders and start the old ball a-rollin’ 
ag’in?” 

44 It would be too expensive for me now. My 
bank account has never been large since I bought 
this ranch, and I depended on my cattle to swell it. 
Instead of selling my stock as they fattened, how¬ 
ever, I have lost them to thieves. What few I have 
left are, as I said, so scattered that I cannot round 
them up myself and, perforce, must lose them, 
too.” 

Charley Long poked his head into the room and 
spoke: 44 Chuck, he leady.” 


CLIVE MAKES A RESOLVE 


25 


Forest rose with a graceful inclination of her 
head and Clive followed her into the dining room 
where a well appointed table was set for two. 
Across the expanse of snowy linen he resumed the 
conversation. 

64 Miss Glade, mebbe it sounds presumptious and 
all that, but would yuh mind tellin’ me more ’bout 
yore troubles here? I got a idee and if I knowed 
just how things stand mebbe we could work out 
somethin’.” 

44 Oh, I don’t mind telling you,” she said. 44 1 
bought the ranch from a girl friend in college who 
was consumptive and needed money badly. It took 
almost all the fairly large fortune my father had 
left to me to do it. She had never seen the ranch, 
knowing it only from the descriptions her father 
had given her while he was living. But she had 
papers and legal data that indicated it was worth 
every cent I paid for it, perhaps more. Poor girl, 
she died soon after selling to me and I came here 
to claim my own. 

44 1 arrived in the spring of the year and found I 
had bought a small empire here in Cottonwood 
Valley. My brand was the Swinging J and fifteen 
hands tended my recently acquired herds, as the 
attorneys had had everything attended to in the 
matter of stocking the ranch. The buildings were 
in poor shape, due to the ten years the place had 
been unoccupied, and I intended having everything 
fixed up, but never was given the opportunity to 
carry out my plans. 


26 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


“ The second week after my arrival a committee 
of five men called on me. They told me the ranch 
had lain idle for so many years it had come to be 
looked on as open range. The cowmen hereabouts, 
they said, with their ranches already overstocked, 
and the open range also crowded, had taken ad¬ 
vantage of my broad acres to increase their herds 
and allow the overflow to graze here. Naturally, 
my coming forced this overflow back into the home 
herds and there was not sufficient room on most of 
the ranches to accommodate them. 

“ They made me an offer to buy the ranch, but 
the sum was so pitifully small that I refused it, then 
they insinuated cattle raising was poor business for 
an inexperienced girl, and that I probably would 
lose everything I had put into the venture. They 
hinted darkly about rustlers who infested the val¬ 
ley, spoke of water holes that were poisoned myste¬ 
riously, and what not. They even averred a big 
sheepman was figuring on turning flocks onto this 
range. Without fence, I would naturally be help¬ 
less to combat this evil. 

“A week later one of my riders found a num¬ 
ber of my cattle lying dead at a water hole. 
Investigation showed it had been poisoned. Then, 
other holes were poisoned and finally my herds 
were raided and two hundred selected steers were 
stolen. I appealed to the sheriff in Sunset, forty 
miles away, and he spent a week here. When he 
left he advised me to get out, saying that it was 
impossible for him to trace down those who were 


CLIVE MAKES A RESOLVE 


27 


persecuting me and that it would be useless for 
me to call on him again, unless there was a killing. 

u In the course of the next few weeks my hands 
quit a few at a time, bribed, I believe, by those 
who were fighting me. I brought in new ones and 
they quit, too. After a time I could get no men 
from anywhere and meantime my herds kept right 
on dwindling. Two months ago my last rider left 
and since then only Charley Long and I have held 
the fort as it were, and we have watched the herds 
grow smaller and smaller. What you saw today 
was the first actual hostility against my person. 

64 So, it has come to this: I have enough money 
left to recoup if I could get faithful men, but not 
enough to risk unless I know the men would be 
true to me. I have recently offered to sell my 
ranch to any one who would buy, but the valley 
ranchers laugh at me. The climax of it all was 
reached last week when a flock of sheep came in 
over Saddleback Pass and set about eating my 
grass. I protested to the herders, who were Mexi¬ 
cans, got laughed at and gave it up. Now, you see 
why I am leaving.” 

So interested Clive had become in the tale that he 
let his steak grow cold. Now he attacked it vigor¬ 
ously, the while a furrow plowed itself across his 
usually smooth brow. After a time he looked up: 

66 Miss Glade, it seems funny these ranchers 
would go so far as to steal yore land, and I reckon 
there’s somethin’ behind it all. Now, yuh can’t 
get no help from the sheriff of this man’s county, 


28 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


yuh say, so by cripes the next best thing is recourse 
to the gun. If yuh’ll just say the word, danged 
if I won’t stay here with yuh and together we’ll 
raise a merry little hell with them cow thieves and 
low down, onery skunks.” 

For an instant a gleam of hope flickered in her 
eyes, then it died out. Wearily she shook her hfad. 

66 No, Mr. Morgan, that will not do. You and I 
would be two and of course I would not count in 
the business you suggest. In the valley are ten 
enormous ranches. Each has from fifteen to thirty 
hands. You would be one against nearly three 
hundred. I thank you, but it is hopeless.” 

66 Who said anything about just you and me 
alone?” Clive demanded, his jaw set pugnaciously. 
64 S’posin’ yuh had, say, twenty of the all-firedest, 
hell-spittin’est riders that ever rode a bronc’ ’thout 
pullin’ leather, down here? What then?” 

44 But I’ve told you I cannot afford to gamble on 
them remaining,” she reminded him, although there 
was something in her voice that urged him on to 
voicing the resolve he had just made. 44 1 could 
pay them, of course, but it would only be worth 
it to me if I could know positively I would retrieve 
what little I have left as the nucleus for a fresh 
start.” 

44 Say, Miss Glade, if yuh’ll say the word I’ll 
have a bunch of hell-roarers down here in jig time 
that won’t ask no pay until yuh get set and are 
goin’ strong, just so long as yuh can find ’em a 
place to sleep and plenty of chuck. I’ll be among 


CLIVE MAKES A RESOLVE 


29 


’em. In fact, I’ll be yore foreman and yuh can 
gamble the last dollar yuh got left that what that 
bunch’ll do to this valley will look like Rome 
was when Nero throwed away his dang’ fiddle.” 

A light dawned in her eyes, a light of hope and 
joy — and a light that somehow seemed to say 
she had faith in Clive to carry out the daring plan 
he had hinted at, the resolve he had made to help 
her. 

66 Do you mean-” 

He interrupted. 

66 1 mean just what I say. I come over this-a- 
way lookin’ for a job. Well, there ain’t none, so 
far’s I can see, so by cripes I’m a-goin’ to whittle 
one out for muhse’f. If I get back yore ranch and 
yore cows and clean up this place, I’m a-goin’ to 
ask yuh to keep me on here permanent like and 
mebbe some of the boys I’ll round up’ll want to 
stay likewise.” 

On the instant, forgetting the remainder of her 
meal, she caught his enthusiasm. With a little, 
glad cry she said: 

“ Oh, if you only could.” 

66 1 can, and I will,” he returned. 66 And while 
I’m about it I’ll find out what’s back of all these 
shenanigans, for it ain’t natural for them ranchers 
to act so on their own hook, by cripes.” 

46 If you can do all you have hinted at, Mr. 
Morgan, you would never leave here save of your 
own volition — that’s how permanent you would 
be on the Swinging J.” 



30 THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 

He rose, one hand resting on the table, a smile on 
his face. 

“Then, it’s a bargain, Miss Glade? In effect 
yuh’ll sorta turn things over to me for a spell and 
let me work out my own battle plans ag’in’ this 
crowd?” 

She rose with him, hand extended, inviting his. 

“ It is a bargain. Go as far as you like. If I 
am to lose the Swinging J it seems to me, after all, 
that I could accept the blow more gracefully and 
with fewer tears if I went down fighting and — and 
— thank you for your offer.” 

He gripped her hand an instant, then said: 

“Then I can consider muhse’f officially on the 
job, so’s to speak?” 

“ From this instant,” she agreed. 

“ First off, then, I want to use yore Chink. Yuh 
say it’s forty mile to Sunset. Tell me, is there a 
telygraph office there?” 

“ Surely,” she said. “ The Z. L. & G. goes 
through the town and you can send messages, if that 
is your plan. Of course you may use Charley 
Long.” 

“ That’s my plan, and I want that Chink to take 
a batch of telygrams down to Sunset and send ’em 
off as fast as the wire’ll carry ’em.” 

“You will want him to start in the morning?” 

“ Tomorrow? Shucks, Miss, tomorrow’s a long 
ways off. Besides, if anybody sees him a-goin’ 
out that pass they might suspicion somethin’ and 
stop him, and I don’t want that. No, sir-ee, Bob. 


CLIVE MAKES A RESOLVE 


31 


Charley gets out this very night, after it’s dark, 
and I want him to scoot like greased lightnin’, so’s 
he’ll be in Sunset by mornin’.” 

66 Very well,” said Forest, now fully in harmony 
with his plan. 66 1 shall tell him at once.” 

He heard her voice in the kitchen and Charley 
Long’s sing-song voice raised in brief replies. Then 
both emerged into the dining room and the China¬ 
man did an unusual thing. He advanced toward 
Clive and looked him squarely in the eye for a long 
moment, and said: 

“ Yo’ help Missey?” 

Clive nodded. 

66 Then I he’p yo’. But yo’ no fool Missey, else 
Chal-ley Long stick ’em knife along yo’.” 

Clive laughed, pleased at the show of loyalty. 

64 Charley,” he said, 44 yo’re a Chink, but I 
reckon yo’re all square four ways from Sunday.” 

Silently the white man and the yellow man 
gripped hands. Then Clive tramped into the living 
room and, after a laborious half hour with paper 
and pencil, handed Charley the telegrams, along 
with a gold piece. 

44 Yuh take them there telygrams, Charley, and 
yuh send ’em pronto. They’ll bring a reg’lar fire 
storm down on this valley hell bent for election.” 

The Chinaman stuffed the missives inside his 
blouse and soft-footed away, to await darkness and 
his trip through the pass. Clive turned to Forest: 

44 Now, where’s them dang sheep yuh said was 
on yore place?” 


32 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


“They are on the south fork of Cougar Creek, 
near the southern end of my ranch. I presume 
there are three or four thousand of them.” 

“ Just got one herder and three-four dogs?” 

“ There are five herders and I don’t know how 
many dogs.” 

“ Hunh,” he snorted. “ That means they’re set 
for trouble. On’y one herder and three dogs 
needed for three-four thousand sheep. I know, 
’cause I seen more sheep in Montany than I ever 
seen cows.” 

At dusk Charley Long left the ranch, mounted 
on a fleet bay that somehow had escaped the hands 
of the marauders. A short time later Clive, tired 
and sleepy, bade Forest goodnight and strode to the 
bunkhouse, throwing open the door. Fifteen min¬ 
utes later he had his blankets inside, and cleaned 
out a bunk, and was sleeping the sleep of the peace¬ 
ful and just. 


CHAPTER III 
The War Is Opened 

The week that followed was a busy one for 
Clive; a week filled with hope for Forest. He did 
not visit the scene of the sheep camp, nor did he 
bother any of the valley ranchers. He had re¬ 
trieved the buckboard from its place in the waters 
of Cougar Creek and the barn doors now hung 
tightly and swung true on well oiled hinges. Also 
the sags in the corral fence had disappeared and 
the little picket fence that surrounded the ranch 
house stood graceful and proud for all to see. 
Not a paling was missing, and the trim little gate 
swung to and fro readily and easily. 

Clive had come upon window glass, several kegs 
of nails and staples, buckets of putty and sundry 
odds and ends in the bam, also considerable paint 
and great coils of barbed wire. He utilized his 
time in repairing the shattered panes in the bunk- 
house windows and touching things up with the 
paint. 

Charley Long had returned on the second night 
and had informed Clive that his messages had been 
forwarded as per schedule. Thereafter he worked 
side by side with the former Ranger. 

Finally came a night, however, when all was 


34 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


finished that the pair could attend to for the time 
being and they sat beside the big kerosene lamp in 
the living room. Clive for some days had been 
cheered by the change that had come over Forest. 
Her face was now vivacious and happy and her 
eyes were brilliant; there was color in her cheeks 
and her old dis-spirited walk had been turned into 
a firm, spritely stride. 

It was almost midnight when Clive looked at the 
clock on the wall and reached for his hat. 

“ Time for me to be a-goin’,” he said. 66 Tomor¬ 
row may be a busy day. Most any time now some 
of the boys’ll be showin’ up and I want to be out 
to greet ’em.” 

Came a clatter of hoofs outside. Like a flash 
Clive dropped his hat and bent over the light, blow¬ 
ing it out with a single, swift puff. Then, hand 
swinging lightly near his gun, he approached the 
door. A hail sounded from without. 

66 Hello in there. This the Swingin’ J ranch?” 

Clive gave a whoop of joy and his hand left his 
gun. With a bound he was through the door and 
clattering down the veranda steps, making his way 
with long, swinging strides toward three silhouettes 
that sat calmly astride horses in the starlight. As 
he dashed forward he yelled: 

66 Shad Stevens, you wall-eyed old porpoise, yuh 
got here, didn’t yuh? Who’s with yuh?” 

66 Howdy, Tex,” said three voices in unison and 
Clive, hearing the tones, identified the other two 
riders. 


THE WAR IS OPENED 


35 


44 Honey Malloy, yuh walrus, how are yuh? 
And that other galoot, that spavined old he-wolf, 
that’s Bull Ellerby, I’m bettin’ muh hat.” 

With a bound he was among them and they slid 
from their mounts. Hands pumped and hands 
thumped backs. Came a clamor of voices and con¬ 
tented laughter. After a time Clive drew off a 
little and said: 

44 Come into the house, yuh old man-eaters. I 
want yuh to meet the boss. Besides, yuh must be 
hungry, and Charley Long’ll be tickled pink to get 
yuh a swell feed.” 

The quartet clumped across the veranda and into 
the living room where Forest stood beside the lamp 
she had re-lighted. Clive led an embarrassed trio 
before her and said: 

44 Miss Glade, I want yuh to meet three of the 
fightin’est fools that ever come out of Texas. They 
was all Rangers same time I was and quit ’bout the 
same time I did. This yere’s Shad Stevens; he was 
a sergeant and a good one, and yere’s Honey Mal¬ 
loy, the geezer what chased old Jeff Lorillard across 
the Rio Gran’ and brought him back regardless of 
what Mexico said about it. Lasts but not least, this 
is Bull Ellerby, my sleepin’ mate in the barracks 
when we was to hum; other times, in our tents or 
out under the stars.” 

The girl’s face held a high color and her eyes 
gleamed happily as she shook each man individu¬ 
ally by the hand. Tongue-tied and embarrassed 
they stood before her, shifting from foot to foot, 


36 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


unable to say what they wanted to say, afraid to 
speak at all for fear they would blurt out that 
which they did not want to say. 

Forest realized their feelings and sympathized 
with them archly. She guided them one at a time 
to easy chairs and forced them to sit down. Then 
she told Charley Long to prepare something hot, 
and when the three would have protested, despite 
the gnawing at their stomachs, she held up a 
firm hand and told them they must eat. 

After a time with the animated chatter of Clive 
to help them, they lost their timidity and began 
bandying words with each other at a clip that 
warmed the girl’s heart. Bull Ellerby finally turned 
to Clive and said: 

66 What’s this all about, Tex? Yore telygram 
said to come a-runnin’ if we wanted to mix in 
somethin’ real interestin’. Well, we’re here. Might 
as well tell us now as to hold off.” 

66 Yeh, we’re curious cusses, Tex, as yuh know,” 
said Honey. 64 Loosen yore old bazoo and eluci¬ 
date.” 

So Clive told them. While Charley Long, mak¬ 
ing a din with his pots and pans, rustled a rousing 
meal, Clive went back to the very start of what 
Forest had told him and related incident for inci¬ 
dent the whole sorry tale down to the present. At 
its finish Bull Ellerby brought his heavy hand 
thwacking against his chaparahoed thigh and said: 

44 Well, they’s four of us now, ain’t they? What’s 
the use of waitin’ till them other hombres git here. 


THE WAR IS OPENED 


37 


Let’s start out in the mornin’ and comb this old 
valley like she was never combed afore. I’ll bet a 
concho off muh Sunday chaps ag’in’ a gnat’s whis¬ 
kers that us four c’n make them buzzards git down 
on their hunkers and ask their Maker to he’p ’em, 
that’s what I’ll bet.” 

“Aw, shut up, Bull,” said Honey Malloy. 
“ You let Clive run this leetle shindig, and don’t 
yuh go a-gittin’ so all-fired previous.” 

Bull glared at Honey, growling in his throat and 
hunching his massive, iron-thewed shoulders. 

“ Honey, if yuh was any bigger ’n a pint of bay- 
rum I’d turn yuh across muh knee and spank yuh, 
so help me I would. As it is, yore size saves yuh,” 
he threatened. 

Forest laughed. Although not entirely familiar 
with the rough banter of the range-land, she was 
human enough and sensible enough to recognize 
that hearts of gold beat beneath these bulging 
chests and that this was the method her allies were 
taking to relieve their feelings. 

After the meal Clive led the others to the bunk- 
house, where they went over the whole situation 
again and began the definite laying of plans for 
the campaign they would wage against the girl’s 
enemies. 

With the coming of dawn the quartet went into 
action, directing their initial efforts against the 
sheep. Clive had previously ridden all over the 
ranch with Forest and knew the approximate lay of 
the land. He had found most of her landmarks 


38 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


destroyed, but still he was sure enough of the 
limits of the ranch to feel he was on safe ground 
in any action he would take to establish mythical 
boundaries. 

A two-hour ride brought them to the lip of an 
arroyo and they plunged down the banks. The 
horses waded the shallow water at the bottom and 
toiled up the farther bank. Then they saw the 
sheep. 

A billowing wave of dirty gray and white spread 
across the lush grass, all fairly and squarely on 
Forest’s property. With Clive in the lead, they 
bore down on a dingy tent pitched close to a water 
hole. Evidently this was a hole that had not been 
poisoned, else it was fresh again. 

A squat, swarthy Mexican, with greasy counte¬ 
nance and filthy ears greeted them, a rifle in his 
hands. Clive addressed him. 

46 Whose sheep, ladron?” 

The Mexican drew a hissing breath at the epi¬ 
thet and shifted his rifle. 

46 Eet is none of your beez-ness,” he said. 

With a leap Clive left his saddle and sprang 
upon the man. He tore the rifle from his grip and 
hurled it aside, the while his swinging fists beat a 
tattoo on his face. When the Mexican, with a cry 
for mercy, sank to the sod, Clive asked again: 

44 Whose sheep?” 

44 Ah, senor , quien sabe? I hire for to drive 
heem; you ask camp tender.” 

44 Where is he?” 


THE WAR IS OPENED 


39 


The Mexican pointed. Following the direction 
indicated by the finger, Clive’s glance fell upon 
another tent, a half-mile distant. He could discern 
figures moving about it. He turned again to the 
greaser. 

“ Let me tell yuh something, ladron; yore days 
here is numbered. The best thing yuh ever done 
was ’fess up that yuh didn’t know who owned these 
woolies. Now, yuh pack up yore things and get 
to hell out of here. If yo’re here when we come 
back yuh’ll be strung up, and that’s flat. Com- 
prende?” 

44 Si, senor, I comprende, and I go,” said the 
trembling wretch. 

44 Number one,” said Clive grimly. 66 Come on, 
cowboys, let’s go. There’s more game over that- 
a-way,” and he led off in the direction of the other 
tent. 

While they were still fifty yards distant the crack 
of a rifle split the air, sounding sharply above 
the clicking jaws of the sheep. Honey Malloy’s hat 
lifted gently on his head briefly, then settled back. 
Two clean holes were bored through the towering 
crown. 

The shot brought immediate action. With yells, 
the quartet drew six-guns and a peppering fusillade 
was turned on the tent. Four men came running 
from between the dirty flaps, hands thrust in the 
air. All were Mexicans. 

64 Who fired that rifle?” Clive asked belligerently 
as he dismounted and walked among the herders, 


40 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


feeling them over for hidden knives or revolvers. 
Finding two knives he drew them forth and hurled 
them far to one side. No one answered his ques¬ 
tion. 

46 Aw, to hell with who fired the shot, Tex,” said 
Honey Malloy. 46 Let’s give them hombres a ride 
and let it go at that. They spoiled muh hat, I 
reckon, but I’ll just put it on muh expense account.” 

Clive looked at a tall Mexican who had the air 
of being in charge. 

44 Whose sheep?” he asked. 

The man shifted uneasily and his tongue rolled 
out the soft patio of the country south of the Rio 
Grande. 

44 Speak American, yuh damn’ greaser,” cried 
Clive, 44 and tell us who owns them dirty sheep.” 

44 Meester Bender,” sullenly said the other. 

44 Now we know as much as we did afore,” said 
Shad. 44 To hell with who owns ’em. Make ’em 
git the damn’ things off ’n here; that’s the main 
idee, I reckon.” 

But Clive had a different idea. 

44 Not on yore tintype, Shad. I knows of this 
Bender geezer. He owns a ranch down toward the 
pass. Miss Glade told me about him the fi’st day I 
saw her; said he might give me a job if I rode down 
that-a-way. So Mr. Bender owns these woolies, 
hey?” he said, turning to the Mexican again. 
44 Well I’m sorta glad to hear it. Now, you dang’ 
ladrons, round all them dirty sheep up and get ’em 
started down towards Bender’s.” 


THE WAR IS OPENED 


41 


The Mexican turned and spoke to his compan¬ 
ions. Immediately they called to the dogs and these 
darted off in swift, bounding lopes, flying far 
around the sheep and turning them into a compact 
mass. Clive watched until this was done, then 
spoke again: 

44 Now, yuh know the way to Bender’s, I reckon. 
Drive them woolies along. We’re a-goin’ right 
with yuh and when we reach Bender’s we’re a-goin’ 
to turn that bunch of grass-killers into his alfalfy 
field. Sabe?" 

Fear darted into the leader’s eyes. 

44 Senor Bender weel rave, he weel keel, ” he 
protested. 

44 Well, we’ll rave and kill if yuh don’t, old 
timer, so suit yorese’f.” 

Ten minutes later the sheep were moving slowly 
down the valley, while the Mexicans struck their 
tents and tied them, together with their equipment, 
on pack horses, and followed. Clive and Bull rode 
ahead together, with Shad and Honey Malloy in 
the rear, menacing the herders. 

It was twelve miles from the Swinging J ranch 
house to Bender’s house, but from where the sheep 
had been grazing to Bender’s alfalfa field was a 
matter of a bare six miles. Even then it required 
two hours of constant urging to get the animals that 
far. 

Outside the alfalfa field, purple-green, knee- 
high and rich in promise of the crop it would be, 
Clive dropped from Thunder and pulled a pair of 


42 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


wire-cutters from his pocket. Five snips and five 
strands of barbed wire fell back, with brief, musi¬ 
cal 66 pung-g-gs ” as they parted. Through the gap 
thus created the sheep were herded. 

It was a ticklish job and the soft Arizona twi¬ 
light was falling over the valley, obscuring the 
Mogollons in shadows when the last dirty gray 
animal was driven within. Eagerly clicking teeth 
and clamping jaws attested to the greed of the 
sheep and the thoroughness with which they were 
setting about the work of demolishing the alfalfa. 

66 Cripes,” exclaimed Shad as he helped Clive 
refasten the wire and hide as much as possible the 
marks of the snippers, 64 but I hates to see them 
woolies spoilin’ that field, but I reckon they belong 
to the same man as owns the hay, and if he thought 
it was up to Miss Forest to feed ’em, he shore ortn’t 
to kick when he finds out she refused and sent ’em 
back to his own little pet alfalfy patch.” 

Honey Malloy laughed softly and Bull Ellerby 
grunted contentedly. They had drawn first blood 
in the fight they were opening and all were highly 
satisfied. The wire again in place and the sheep 
hemmed in securely, Clive turned to the waiting, 
fear-filled Mexicans. 

“ Listen, you hombres. Yo’re a-goin’ to ride 
back with us as far as the road and we’re a-goin’ to 
see that yuh skedaddle out of here pronto. If 
yo’re not over that pass afore midnight, yuh every 
damn’ one will eat lead. Sabe?” 

The frightened men understood and made no 


THE WAR IS OPENED 


43 


objections when Bull herded them ahead much as 
he might have driven so many sheep, and in this 
wise the party left the scene. Honey Malloy 
laughed gleefully. 

66 Oh, mama, if them woolies last in there all 
night what they’ll do to that hay will be a shame. 
I’m sorry for the sheep, though; they’ll shore git 
indigesting or somethin’ and like as not it’ll kill 
a lot of ’em.” 

“ Let it,” said Shad sententiously, heartless 
wherever sheep were concerned. 66 L’arn ’em not 
to git in people’s yards no more when they ain’t 
wanted.” 

They cut straight across the range, making for 
the highway where it wound, a ribbon of white 
in the moonlight, off toward the pass. The four 
rode with the Mexicans until they were well past 
the Bender place, then Clive said: 

66 Now, don’t none of yuh try to come back 
here and chin-chin with Bender, ’cause if yuh 
try it yuh’ll shore as hell git shot. We’re a-goin’ to 
wait right around here ontil mornin’ and it won’t 
he healthy for nobody to come buzzin’ down this- 
a-way tonight. Comprende?” 

But Clive knew his was a needless warning. Not 
only were the Mexicans fearful of the guns of the 
four, but they also dreaded the wrath of Bender 
when the latter found his sheep in his own alfalfa 
field. It was not likely they would stop their for¬ 
ward movements until they reached Sunset, forty 
miles distant, and even then it was probable they 


44 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


would keep going until they either came to sheep 
country or were far enough away to feel safe from 
the vengeance of the cowboys who had just threat¬ 
ened them. 

With the feeling that a day of good work had 
been done in an excellent manner the party waited 
an hour, then turned back to the Swinging J. As 
they clattered into the yard a chorus of joyful yells 
sounded from the veranda and six leaping figures 
descended on them. Clive gave a whoop and left 
his saddle, striding among the others, giving and 
taking greetings and good-natured jests. 

Six more of his former comrades were here — 
six more roaring knights of the range who feared 
neither man nor devil. He called their names 
aloud as he greeted them: 

66 Spud Garrett, Lazy Turner, Pink Sellers, Mo¬ 
jave Evans, Brindle Thorp and Piute Allen.” 

All had partaken liberally of Charley Long’s 
bountiful offering at the table, and all had met 
Forest Glade. Naturally they all were glad to 
see Clive and joyfully they accompanied him to 
the bunkhouse. 

Before any one turned in the new arrivals were 
apprised of the status of things and what Clive, 
Shad, Bull and Honey had accomplished with the 
sheep. Clive, gazing at the nine now gathered with 
him in the bunkhouse, felt his heart swell with 
pride. They were now ten men, all told, but he 
knew that within the next few days they would be 
a score, perhaps more. He had sent thirty tele- 


THE WAR IS OPENED 45 

grams, but made allowances for the possibility that 
five, at the most, could not come. 

Spud Garrett, a fiery Texan whose reputation as 
a six-gun artist had spread the length and breadth 
of the Pan Handle, was for starting hostilities 
first thing in the morning, but cooler heads pre¬ 
vailed. If there was, as Forest suspected, a com¬ 
bination of virtually all the valley ranchers in a 
plot against her, they would have at least two 
hundred and fifty men to fight. To start open 
warfare with their present force, therefore, would 
be folly. Until far into the night they sat and 
planned. 


CHAPTER IV 
The Rangers Gather 

The clanging jangle of Charley Long’s triangle 
awakened punchers and girl alike next morning 
and Forest dressed hurriedly and descended from 
her room, to glimpse a scene that brought back 
memories of what her ranch had been in the first 
heyday of her arrival. Ten boisterous cowhands 
were romping about basins and water buckets, jest¬ 
ing and roughing each other. At breakfast she set 
a precedent and joined the men at the long table 
in the dining room. 

When Forest entered and made known her inten¬ 
tions Clive hastily vacated his place of honor at 
the head of the table and found a place beside 
Piute Allen. Forest’s little democratic act won 
the hearts of her allies as nothing else would or 
could have done. From that moment they were for 
her first, last and all the time, as Lazy Turner 
expressed it in his slow, characteristic drawl. 

66 We’re a-goin’ to stage a leetle round-up on our 
own hook beginnin’ today, Miss,” Clive said, over 
the hot cakes and bacon. 66 Yuh said yuh had 
some steers a-runnin’ wild out there on the range 
and we aims to get started at findin’ out just how 
many yuh have got. If we finds any a-grazin’ 
where they ortn’t to be, like in somebody’s back 


THE RANGERS GATHER 


47 


yard, f’r instance, we’re a-goin’ to yank ’em plumb 
out of the yard and maybe see that they stays 
out.” 

Later Clive told Piute and Mojave to remain at 
the house while the rest rode out to the range. 

66 Yuh two’s the only hombres I knows of that 
has Injun names,” he added, “ so yuh can stay 
here together and keep Miss Forest company. If 
anybody comes ’round for any information like, 
just tell ’em the information office is closed for the 
day. If anybody gets rough yuh know what to 
do, cowboys, and if any more of them bow-laiged 
rattlers from over Texas way shows up, make ’em 
to hum. Like as not yuh’ll know some of ’em. I’m 
’spectin’ Hokum Smith and Bing Summers to blow 
in and both you fellers teamed up with ’em over 
on the old Rio Pecos.” 

As Clive led the others from the ranch yard he 
looked back over his shoulder and saw Piute and 
Mojave sitting on the veranda, Forest nearby. For 
the first time since he had come to the Swinging J 
and learned of the girl’s troubles he drew a breath 
of real relief. He knew that with Mojave and Piute 
on the job there was small likelihood of anybody 
molesting her this day. 

An hour’s ride from the ranch they found a few 
Swinging J steers and, riding on, they found scat¬ 
tered small herds on various parts of the range. By 
nightfall they had rounded up more than a hundred 
that were grazing a good ways off from the ranch. 
These were driven back onto the Swinging J acres 


48 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


and allowed to resume their wanderings. During 
the search they had come across numerous other 
brands and, Clive knew, once they worked the 
extreme southern and northern tips of the ranch 
they Would find thousands of steers running there, 
none of which would bear the Swinging J mark. 

A start had been made. Until their forces were 
brought up to a point where they could feel they 
were equal to cope with any situation that might 
arise they felt there was little more that they could 
do. Late in the evening they were back at the 
ranch and shortly after dusk were at supper. And 
after supper trouble came. 

A penny-ante game in the bunkhouse was holding 
the attention of all when a clatter of hoofs drew 
Clive, Honey Malloy and Spud Garrett outside. 
A beefy man with drooping mustaches, who rode a 
sorrel stallion, had entered the yard. He was 
accompanied by a half-dozen punchers. His face, 
clearly visible in the light of the brilliant Arizona 
moon, was a black mask of anger and his eyes 
gleamed savagely. 

66 Where’s the gal that’s a-runnin’ this place?” 
he asked. 

66 Who wants to know?” Clive countered coolly. 
His eyes were on the riders, noting all were armed 
heavily and that hands were resting lightly near 
gun-butts. 

64 None of yore damn’ ’pertinence, cowboy,” 
rasped the other. 44 1 want to talk with that gal, 
and immedjutly, too.” 


THE RANGERS GATHER 


49 


“ I reckon yo’re talkin’ to her foreman, Mister, 
and yuh can be a-tellin’ me most anythin’ yuh got 
to say to her, so’s to speak,” Clive answered. 

66 Foreman?” yelled the other. 44 When’d she 
git a foreman? How long yuh be’n here? How 
many hands yuh got? I thought she was done here 
and was pullin’ out. That’s the word that went 
’round the valley, leastwise.” 

66 What do yuh want?” Clive asked sharply. 
66 Yo’re a-speelin’ a-plenty, but yuh ain’t a-sayin’ 
a damn’ thing. Now, if yuh got somethin’ impor¬ 
tant to tell her, just spout it out to me, or get out of 
here. We got a poker game on and we wants to 
get back to it.” 

66 I’m a-talkin’ to that gal,” said the other. 
64 Yuh’ll call her, too, if yuh know when yo’re well 
off. I got somethin’ important to say to her, and 
yuh-” 

44 How do you do, Mr. Bender?” 

It was Forest’s voice, tinged with excitement; a 
vague fear that she strove vainly to hide. The big 
man turned to her, watching as she strolled grace¬ 
fully through the gate in the little picket fence, and 
out into the ranch yard. He glanced at her 
stormily. 

44 1 don’t do a-tall, young woman,” he growled. 
44 1 come over here to ask yuh if you turned them 
damn’ sheep into my alfalfy. Did yuh?” 

44 Certainly not; I have hardly been out of the 
house for a week, Mr. Bender.” 

44 Oh, hell; yuh know what I mean. It was yore 



50 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


orders I reckon that turned them sheep onto me. 
Well, they ruined a alfalfy patch that was wo’th 
more’n two thousand dollars, and I’m a-goin’ to 
make yuh pay. Sabe?” His eyes were hard in 
the moonlight. 

66 Say, you,” broke in Clive. 46 Whose sheep 
was they?” 

Bender’s eyes flicked around to Clive’s, little 
fires gleaming in their depths. He glared down 
at the tall Montanan and rasped: 

44 ’Tain’t a question of whose sheep they was, it’s 
a question of muh alfalfy field, that’s what it is.” 

44 That’s where yo’re wrong, mister,” said Clive. 
44 Them sheep, we was told, belong to you. Well, 
yeste’day I went out with some fellers and we 
found ’em on the Swingin’ J and by the looks of 
the range they had been here some leetle time, too. 
I asked a feller that was tendin’ ’em who owned ’em 
and he says 4 Meester Bender.’ Well, you was the 
only Bender we knowed of ’round here and we just 
nacherally made them Mex shepherds of yore’n 
take ’em home. Did they sick ’em onto yore al¬ 
falfy?” he ended innocently. 

Bender strangled on a snort and coughed huskily. 

44 Did they sick ’em on muh alfalfy?” he mim¬ 
icked, rage blurring his voice. 44 Why, yuh low- 

down, wall-eyed-” 

Spat! 

Like a rifle crack came the smack of Clive’s 
open hand across Bender’s face. In the golden 
light of the brilliant moon, which made the scene 



THE RANGERS GATHER 


51 


almost as clear as day, Spud Garrett saw a move¬ 
ment of arms back among Bender’s riders and, 
together with Honey’s, his own arms moved. At 
the same time a yell sounded from Honey, and the 
others, who had been listening inside the bunk- 
house door, came out on the run. Revolvers 
gleamed in the moonlight and Bull Ellerby’s hoarse 
voice roared: 

66 Now, if you hombres wants to start somethin’, 
one of yuh go ahead and lift a gun, that’s all. 
Yuh hear me, cowboys?” 

It was ten to seven. Bender’s men acknowledged 
the situation by thrusting their guns back in their 
holsters, but Bender, raging and cursing, swung 
his horse and attempted to ride Clive down. The 
latter calmly ducked, then leaped. His crashing 
fist caught Bender in the neck and the beefy form 
toppled from the stallion, landing with a thud 
and a grunt on the hard-packed earth. He lay 
supine for a moment, then struggled painfully to 
his feet. Like his men, he now retreated: 

66 Yo’re a-goin’ to be sorry for this, cowboy; 
mark muh words. Yuh’ll be damn’ glad to get out 
of this afore another week’s gone by, and yuh 
can brand that on yore bunkhouse door. Come 
on, fellers,” and with a swish of his quirt he sent 
his stallion lunging off in the moonlight, his riders 
closing in on either side and accompanying him. 

Out past the barn and well along toward the 
narrow trail that led to the valley highway, little 
torches of light flared and a volley of shots crashed 


52 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


through the stillness. Clive and Forest, standing 
together, heard the menacing hum of bullets, dron¬ 
ing like angry bees. The others heard them, too, 
and leaped to points of vantage, guns coming out 
and into line for action. 

But there were no more shots. Evidently Bender 
had meant the volley as a farewell salute and a 
promise of dire things to come. With a shrug, 
Clive turned and called to his companions: 

66 Put up yore guns, fellers; they ain’t really 
a-shootin’ at us, I reckon. Just thought they’d 
give us a little scare, seems like. Miss Forest, 
if I was you, I’d get back in the house and stay 
there temporary like. No tellin’ when a stray hunk 
of lead might come yore way.” 

Forest shuddered. 

64 Mr. Morgan,” she said, 44 you see how des¬ 
perate these men are, and how far they will go to 
drive me away from here. Perhaps, after all, it 
would be wiser for me to leave. Even if you gain 
a victory over them now, that does not insure my 
future here, for never again, so long as either 
myself or those men are alive, will there be any¬ 
thing except bad blood between us. Can’t you see 
what I mean?” 

44 Whoop,” yelled Brindle Thorp, 44 if that’s the 
case, Miss, yuh leave them buzzards to us and we’ll 
drive 'em out of the valley and yuh can have the 
whole dang place all to yore lonesome.” 

Before she could respond, there came faintly, 
from far off, the sound of firing bursting out 


THE RANGERS GATHER 


53 


afresh. Scattered shots, as though six-guns were 
playing between forces about equal in numbers 
crashed through the night. The ex-Rangers pricked 
up their ears. 

Came a sharp, rattling outburst, then the shoot¬ 
ing ceased and the normal silence of the valley 
settled down once more. Clive and Forest, with 
the others gathered near, stood quietly, waiting and 
watching, nerves tense. Forest found that she 
was not afraid, and was thankful. She knew that 
ten hands were swinging lightly near blue-barrelled 
six-guns and that ten hearts were waiting eagerly 
for whatever the firing might forefend. 

After a time there came out of the night a 
clatter of hoofs and a chorus of yells. At the first 
sound of the voices Clive relaxed his tension and 
gave a shout: 

66 That’s more of muh old side-kicks, Miss Forest, 
a-comin’ on the run. I bet they met them c’yotes of 
old Bender’s out there some place, got tackled and 
shot it out with ’em.” 

64 And I bet,” came in Bull Ellerby’s heavy tones, 
46 1 can tell yuh who pulled out fust.” 

Around the barn came plunging, foam-flecked 
horses, each carrying a yelling rider. A voice 
cried out: 

44 Hey, is this the Swingin’ J ranch? If it ain’t, 
yuh better say so afore yuh start shootin’ or we’ll 
just nacherally chaw up yore danged old place.” 

Mojave Evans was first to respond. 

44 Aw, shut up, Hokum Smith; yuh always was 


54 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


too fresh with yore bazoo. Come on down here 
and I’ll tan yore danged hide for yuh.” 

46 Yipee-e-e-e! That’s old Mojave Evans or I’m 
a pie-eyed cockroach,” said the other voice, where¬ 
upon still others sounded: 

44 Hey, Tex! Yuh here? What do yuh say, old 
hoss? Sing out, yuh bow-laiged cattypillar, let’s 
hear yore silvery voice.” 

Clive turned to Forest, a grin of joy on his face, 
a mist that he was not ashamed of filming his eyes. 

66 Hear ’em, Miss Forest? Sound kinda good 
to yuh? Think a bunch like that won’t get back 
yore cows? Heck, they just be’n a-mixin’ it out 
there with old Bender’s gang and some of ’em might 
’a’ got shot, yet here they be a-yellin’ and a-whoop- 
in’ just as though nothin’ had happened.” 

44 It is wonderful, such friendship, such loyalty,” 
she breathed, then laughed happily. She was 
close behind Clive when he started among the 
dismounting horde. She counted them. There 
were nine; nine glorious fighting faces to aug¬ 
ment her forces, nine more rough riding, hard 
hitting, fearless men of the range come to pick 
up her gauge and hurl it at her foes! Her heart 
swelled as she grasped the spirit of it all — the 
spirit of the old west that was thus being bared! 

She saw Clive shaking hands, saw Shad and 
Honey and Spud also milling around, hands pump¬ 
ing; she heard prodigious clumps on the back, 
heard genuine affection sound in voices that cried 
out greetings and good cheer, then, tears filling 


THE RANGERS GATHER 55 

her eyes, a great thankfulness welling up in her 
heart, she turned and fled toward the house. 

There Clive found her when he led the nine 
inside a few minutes later. She had regained her 
composure, save for her slightly luminous eyes, 
and had lighted the huge living room lamp. 
Already she had spoken to Charley Long and that 
worthy was busy with his pots and pans, beginning 
now to get used to these nocturnal arrivals of 
Clive’s friends, and glad that they were come. 

66 Miss Forest,” said Clive, his tones joyous, “ I 
want yuh to meet some more of muh old side-kicks. 
They all met in Sunset, where they bought their 
hosses, and rode out yere together. Here, now, 
this windy geezer with the big nose is Hokum 
Smith; that long-eared ape beside him’s Bing Sum¬ 
mers, and that solemn lookin’ buzzard is Jingle 
Jones, thinks he’s a poet; and there’s Brick 
Howard, and Chick Purdy. Behind him is Lone¬ 
some Hines, the lonesomest feller yuh ever saw. 
There’s Wag Deering, nicknamed ’cause his 
tongue’s always waggin’, and there’s Reb Sefton, 
whose dad fit for Lee in the Civil War, and Blaze 
Ormsby. Ormsby’s the shinin’ light of the bunch 
and ’bout the slickest two-gun feller yuh ever see. 
Wipe yore paws now, yuh dang’ apes, and greet 
yore new boss.” 

Grinning, heads ducking and feet shuffling, they 
crowded about and shook Forest’s hand. Ormsby 
was the last to greet her. 

66 1 am, indeed, glad to be here, Miss Glade,” 


56 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


came his soft, modulated tones, no trace of the 
range dialect in his voice. 66 Clive failed to indi¬ 
cate that we were to work for such a charming 
young lady, else we would have hastened our 
arrival considerably.” 

64 Hear that?” chortled Clive. 44 Didn’t I say he 
was our shinin’ light? But don’t hold that ag’in’ 
him, Miss Forest; he don’t mean nothin’ by it, it’s 
just that he can’t help it.” 

Forest laughed tremulously. Hope, which had 
slowly been fanned into flame in her heart under 
Clive’s constant optimism, now burst forth and 
burned high. In that instant she would willingly 
have gambled all her remaining dollars that these 
men would conquer in her name, and in conquer¬ 
ing carve out in the Cottonwood Valley an enviable 
position for the Swinging J ranch. 

Charley Long’s sing-song call reached them and 
the nine clumped off to a steaming meal. Clive 
asked: 

44 Was you fellers a-doin’ some shootin’ down 
the road a spell back?” 

Wag raised a grinning face from a blistering hot 
cup of coffee. 

44 Did yuh hear that, amigo? Say, that was the 
dangedest thing yuh ever heard tell of. Here we 
was, all a-ridin’ along easy and peaceful like and 
Brick, Lonesome and Blaze a-singin’ some sob- 
song when all to onct, whang! and then crack, 
bang and smash! We was set on by a lot of ridin’ 
fools who was either drunk or crazy; leastwise, they 


THE RANGERS GATHER 


57 


couldn’t shoot straight. Well, we just nacherally 
lit into that gang and chased merry hell out of ’em. 
They was six or seven, I didn’t count how many, but 
I know a big hombre with a black mustache was 
a-leadin’ ’em.” 

66 That was old Bender and his gang,” said Clive. 
66 Bender’s one of the buzzards we got to smoke 
out of here. He had just left us and we had a 
leetle shindig with him ourselves, afore he was per¬ 
suaded to vamoose 

“ One thing about that fight, though,” said 
Hokum Smith, 64 it busted up that danged love 
song that near-trio was a-singin’, and I reckon we 
ort to be thankful for that.” 

Forest, watching and listening, felt that her cup 
of hope and thankfulness was running over, but as 
it turned out it was not yet full. Even before the 
others had finished their meal, hoof-beats once more 
sounded outside and more yells rent the air. Bull 
Ellerby’s deep bass could be heard in joyous 
acclaim, while the softer voice of Shad Stevens also 
broke in. 

Clive hastened outside and his eyes lit with 
pleasure. His fondest hopes had been fulfilled, 
for in the yard seven men were dismounting. 
Every man he had expected and had counted on as 
a certainty had now arrived. A voice was saying: 

46 Did that other bunch of lop-ears arrive? We 
heard about ’em in Sunset and we rode like two 
kinds of hell tryin’ to ketch ’em, but I reckon they 
was a-ridin’ the same way; leastwise, we didn’t 


58 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


git nary a sign of ’em, not even their dang’ dust.” 

Bull Ellerby’s heavy voice assured them the 
others had arrived top-side up and even now were 
being dined. Then Clive was among them. The 
hand-shaking and back-thmnping was gone through 
with once more and once more Forest was called 
on to greet new allies. As before, Clive acted as 
master of ceremonies. 

A tall, lithe youth, with black eyes and a pale, 
handsome face, stood in the forefront, and toward 
him Clive pointed an unmannerly finger, indicat¬ 
ing first of all the silver-mounted six-guns that 
swung at his hips. 

66 There, Miss Forest,” Clive declared, “ is the 
king-pin two-gun man of the Texas Rangers; least¬ 
wise, he was ontil he quit bein’ a Ranger. Meet 
Two-Gun Farrell, the fastest man with a gun in the 
Southwest, I reckon, and standin’ there beside him 
is his pal, Faro Latimer. There’s Laramie Wilkins, 
Fog Carruthers, Milk River Ellis, Silk Kingsbury 
and Wyomin’ Red Hargrave. Now, yuh’ve met 
’em all. Here we are, twenty-six of us, and me the 
porest cuss of the lot, if I do say it muhse’f. We’re 
here to see yuh gets justice, and if we can’t get 
in no other way, why dang our hides, we’ll dig in 
and find it for yuh with our six-guns. There ain’t 
a man in the bunch that won’t go the limit for yuh, 
Miss Forest, and when we get through with Cotton¬ 
wood Valley, yuh shore won’t know the old place 
nohow.” 

The reunion that followed lasted until well after 
midnight, and when Forest finally retired there was 


THE RANGERS GATHER 


59 


a great peace in her heart, and a great thankful¬ 
ness ; also, a feeling was being born there that was 
new to her — and it had to do with Clive Morgan. 

Next day Clive held a council of war at which 
all were present and at this gathering Forest’s 
status was gone over carefully and her persecutions 
recounted. No one could offer a really sane reason 
as to the motive behind the attacks on the girl. 

Definite plans of action were discussed and 
the first thing that was agreed on concerned her 
strayed cattle — it was decided that every head of 
Swinging J stock that could be found would be 
rounded up and brought back to the Swinging J 
acres. It was about time for the annual spring 
round-up, but no one could be sure that one would 
be held in Cottonwood Valley, so it was decided the 
boys would fare forth over the whole region and 
comb every herd for Forest’s stock. If opposi¬ 
tion to the move cropped out, they would know 
how to deal with it; in fact, this was exactly what 
they had come here for. At the conclusion of 
what Spud termed the “big pow-wow” it was 
decided action would be started at once. 

That evening Forest formally designated Clive 
as her foreman, and told him a wagon load of sup¬ 
plies would have to be brought in from Sunset. 
Later she arranged the finances with him and, hear¬ 
ing a sizeable check on the bank at Sunset, Clive 
sought the bunkhouse and appointed Silk, Fog, 
Laramie and Wag as those who would hitch up 
the four-horse team next morning and start for 
town, forty miles away. 


CHAPTER V 
Fire and Conflict 

The day had been peaceful. Clive had rather 
anticipated a visit from Bender, this time with more 
punchers behind him, or possibly a force aug¬ 
mented by riders from other ranches of the Cotton¬ 
wood Valley, but night came on apace without 
anything of an untoward nature having occurred. 

An hour before midnight a series of yawns and 
prodigious stretches of arms and legs apprised 
Clive that the new official family of the Swinging J 
was getting sleepy and preparing to turn in, and 
he made a suggestion that had been in his mind 
all evening. 

66 Yuh know, fellers, things has been too peace¬ 
able to suit me, ’specially when yuh consider what’s 
be’n a-happenin’ yere and what’s apt to come. 
Now I figgers the sensible thing for us to do is 
to establish a reg’lar night watch and I’m goin’ 
to suggest that we set one tonight. Pink, yuh 
always was a danged old night owl, so s’posin’ yuh 
sashay outside and find yorese’f a hole and keep a 
eye on things. If yuh think yuh’ll get lonesome, 
yuh can take Chick with yuh to keep yuh com¬ 
pany,” he said. 

Pink Sellers rose. “ Come on, Chick,” he said. 
“ You and me is designated as night riders of this 
60 


FIRE AND CONFLICT 


61 


yere outfit, so quit yore danged yawnin’ and move 
along. Some day, shore as hell, yo’re a-goin’ to 
bust yore jaw gap’in’ like that.” 

Peace still hovered over the ranch at midnight. 
Pink and Chick, sitting by the corral in the shadow 
of the fence, dozed despite their good intentions. 
A smiling moon rode high in the heavens and 
brilliant, low-hanging stars studded the velvet bowl 
of the sky. It seemed that a place so quiet and 
serene of sheer necessity must remain so. But 
evil was abroad that night and dark plots were 
working against the Swinging J. 

Something, about three o’clock, awakened Pink. 
He sniffed the air, then tugged at Chick’s arm, 
rousing him. Excitedly, Pink put his lips to 
Chick’s ear. 

46 Wake up, Chick, but keep quiet; I smells 
smoke, shore as hell. I reckon they’s somethin’ 
burnin’ down there by the barn. Lively, now, but 
for cripe’s sake, we mustn’t make no noise.” 

Silently they skirted the corral. Near the barn 
they dropped to their hands and knees and crept 
forward cautiously. Suddenly a flare of light 
toward the rear of the structure apprised them that 
flames were springing into being, and Pink forth¬ 
with abandoned caution. He let out a yell and his 
six-gun fired three rapid shots into the air. 

Three figures, running rapidly, darted from 
behind the barn, made their ways to waiting horses 
and fled swiftly off into the night. But Pink had 
glimpsed a heavy face for just an instant as a 


62 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


tongue of flame, eating at a whisp of straw, had 
flared brightly. As Clive, with the others at his 
heels and only half-clad came running up, Pink 
shouted: 

66 They fired the barn, old timer, but I seen one 
of the geezers what done it, and I’d know him 
ag’in if I met him in hell.” 

Desperately every man of the outfit set about the 
task of saving the barn, but even as they made 
their first frantic attempts they saw it would be a 
hopeless endeavor. The structure had been fired 
in three places and the flames, billowing and 
waving through the dry straw piled inside, were 
eating their way rapidly up the walls and toward 
the roof. 

So long as they could stand the heat they worked 
in relays and threw buckets of water wherever they 
could reach, but in ten minutes they had been 
driven off by the fierce blaze and stood despon¬ 
dently while the big bam toppled and sent up a 
shower of sparks that soared high towatd the 
heavens. 

Fortunately, the barn set outside the cottonwood 
trees and was far enough removed from the house 
as not to threaten the latter structure. The bunk- 
house, too, was safe. The ex-Rangers had man¬ 
aged to save most of the implements inside the barn 
and these, including the buckboard and many 
rolls of barbed wire, were now piled in an ungainly 
mass to one side. At dawn the ruins still smoul¬ 
dered, and where had been a giant structure only 


FIRE AND CONFLICT 


63 


a few hours earlier there was now only a smoking 
ruin of charred wood and bits of iron. 

Clive turned bitter eyes on Pink. 

64 Yuh say yuh saw one of the snakes that done 
this, Pink? Tell me what he looked like. I’m 
a-goin’ through this valley till I find ’im, and 
then he’s a-goin’ to dance on air if I have to string 
’im up all by muh lonesome.” 

Forest was sobbing softly at his side. For 
hours she had stood and watched the valiant fight 
the men had made to save what they could. Now 
she listened intently to Pink’s reply. 

44 Shore, I seen one, Tex; just like I told yuh. 
He was a big guy with on’y one eye and he had 
somethin’ wrong with one of his ears; leastwise, 
it didn’t seem to be all there.” 

Forest drew a quick breath and Clive gave a 
violent start, then turned to the girl. 

44 Miss Forest,” he asked, 44 who owns the next 
ranch to yuh on the no’th?” 

44 It’s the Box 0, Clive,” she replied. 44 Jeb 
Horner owns it. I know what you are thinking, 
and I agree with you. The man Pink saw was 
Clem Jacobs, old Horner’s foreman.” 

Clive nodded grimly. 

44 Yep, that’s the buzzard, all right,” he said. 
44 He’s the hombre that told me to skedaddle when 
I poked muh haid in there that day at dinner 
time a-huntin’ a job.” 

Forest looked at him questioningly, but Clive 
only said: 


64 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


46 Well, I knows of a way to get that dang’ pole¬ 
cat.” 

After breakfast, and with the burning rays of the 
Arizona sun pouring over the mountain peaks to 
the east, Silk, Fog, Laramie and Wag went to the 
harness shed near the corral and brought out 
the equipment for the horses and a half-hour later, 
Silk climbed onto the high seat and picked up the 
reins. He already had been handed the check 
Forest had given Clive, and was prepared for the 
drive into Sunset for supplies. 

Those who were to accompany him had mounted 
their wiry cayuses and ranged alongside the wagon. 
Bull Ellerby, watching the proceedings, turned to 
Clive. 

64 ’Tain’t any of muh business, maybe, Tex, but 
hadn’t yuh ort to send a couple more fellers with 
them bozos?” he asked. 44 S’posin’ eight or a dozen 
of them skunks that has be’n a-honin’ for trouble 
fr’m us was to jump ’em over there in that pass?” 

44 1 reckon yo’re right, Bull,” Clive answered, 
and he turned to the waiting group and called: 
44 Here, Bing, you and Brick and Reb go along with 
’em and be dang’ shore yuh bring back that grub 
top-side high.” 

The wagon departed with a grim escort of six 
riders who ached for battle. As the outfit rattled 
off down the lane, Clive called the others about him 
and suggested they take a walk down past the ruins 
of the barn. Scenting something in Clive’s mind, 
they followed him eagerly. Outside the cotton- 


FIRE AND CONFLICT 65 

woods they gathered in a circle about their leader, 
and Clive said: 

66 1 didn’t want to say much where Miss Forest 
might accidental like have heard, ’cause what I’m 
a-goin’ to put up to you hombres might not set 
well with her. Now, listen. Pink, here, seen a 
one-eyed pole-cat with a tin-ear. I know where 
that gopher slings his leather. Tonight, we’re 
a-goin’ to pay him a leetle visit. Now, gather in 
close while I spouts to yuh a leetle plan I got in 
mind.” 

For five minutes the drone of Clive’s voice 
was the only sound that broke the silence. Forest, 
from the veranda of the house, could see them but 
she could not hear what was being said, therefore 
she wondered when she heard a series of whoops, 
saw the men break up and slap each other on 
shoulder and back. Nor, that night after midnight, 
did she see five silent forms steal softly from the 
bunkhouse, go to the corral and saddle five horses, 
then ride easily away in the moonlight. A half- 
mile from the house, Clive straightened in his 
saddle. 

44 We can cut loose now, boys, ’thout her hearin’ 
our ponies. Yuh shore yuh got them matches, 
Two-Gun?” 

66 1 got a whole dang’ pocketful, Tex.” 

66 You other fellers got enough?” Clive con¬ 
tinued. 

64 1 got plenty,” said Lonesome Hines. 

44 Me, too,” answered Wyoming Red. 


66 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


“ Don’t you worry about me, Clive,” said Blaze 
Ormsby. 66 1 have enough matches on me to burn 
down a whole damned forest.” 

66 Good,” said Clive. 66 1 got a supply muhse’f. 
Now, let’s make some speed.” 

In another hour they crossed Cougar Creek and 
Clive pointed toward the center of the ford. 

66 Settin’ right there in a buckboard, both of 
her hosses shot, is where I fust seed Miss Forest,” 
he told them. 

They had heard the story and looked with interest 
at the gurgling stream. On past the clump of scrub 
willow, out across the open range and toward the 
fenced-in country they spurred. Another hour and 
they came to a line fence, the one Clive had 
noticed the day he met Forest. He knew it would 
now be less than an hour until they reached the 
Box 0. In a little while he led the way from the 
highway, turning in toward the Box 0 fence and 
drew forth his wire snippers. 

“ I s’pose old Homer’s got some night riders, 
so we got to be careful, boys,” he said as, the wires 
down, they rode onto the Box 0 acres. 

66 I’d shore admire for one of ’em to try and 
stop us,” said Two-Gun Farrell, his pale face 
gleaming in the moonlight, and his smooth white 
fingers twitching as though eager to get at his 
gun-butts. 

Jeb Horner had built all his ranch structures 
among cottonwood trees and an orange grove. The 
latter spread out in back of the barn and stalked 


FIRE AND CONFLICT 


67 


off toward the mountains that towered to the north¬ 
east, several miles distant. This proved favorable 
to the night raiders, for the last ten minutes of their 
cautious journey was made in the shadows of these 
trees, only recently plucked of their ripened fruit; 
so recently, in fact, that golden balls still hung in 
odd places on the branches. 

In this grove they left their horses, reins 
dropped over their heads. There would be no 
danger of them neighing, for there were five, and 
generally it is only when a horse is alone that it 
will neigh when it sights or hears another of its 
kindred. 

From shadow to shadow the five silent forms 
approached the giant Box 0 bam. Before reach¬ 
ing the barn itself, one shadow detached itself from 
the others and crept toward the harness and tool 
shed. Still another stepped aside and made its 
way to the fruit-house, where Homer sorted and 
graded his oranges. 

Came a quick d«h across a moonlit patch, then 
the shadows blended with the deeper shades around 
the buildings. 

Silent hands worked rapidly. A door in the 
barn was opened and three figures crept inside. 
Meantime, Ormsby, over at the shed, and Two-Gun, 
in the fruit-house, were busy. Ormsby sighted 
a pile of refuse in the shed, struck a match along 
the underside of his chaparajoed leg and cast it 
down among the litter of paper and shavings, 
while Two-Gun set a match going in a heap of 


68 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


soft, pitchy pine boxes. Both waited only long 
enough to see the flames start, then made their 
ways hurriedly back into the orange trees. 

In the barn, at three separate places, Clive, 
Lonesome and Wyoming threw blazing matches 
into piled-up straw. They noted that no animals 
were inside the structure, therefore had no com¬ 
punctions about what they were doing. They 
paused only long enough to see the flames lick 
swiftly across the straw, then joined Blaze and 
Two-Gun back at the horses. 

No signs of life had shown from the ranch 
house or about the bunkhouse. It was evident 
that old Jeb Homer, serene in the belief that all 
was well on his own ranch, had closed up tightly 
for the night, and if any night riders were kept 
busy at all, they were somewhere off with the 
herds, out across the broad acres of the Box 0. 

As the first startled yells and a few scattered 
shots sounded from the ranch; as the first flaring 
tongue of flame burst from the barn, the five from 
the Swinging J emerged through the gap they had 
cut out in the Box 0 fence, and clattered off 
down the highway. 

Charley Long had not finished with his breakfast 
dishes when a troupe of riders swung into the yard 
of the Swinging J, a huge, one-eyed man with a 
mutilated ear at their head. Clive, showing no 
visible signs of his nocturnal activities, watched 
them approach, counting ten riders in all. With 
Two-Gun, Faro, Bull, Pink and Blaze at his side 


FIRE AND CONFLICT 69 

he waited quietly as the others came up. Pink 
whispered: 

“That’s the jasper I saw a-runnin’ from our 
barn, Tex.” Clive nodded that he understood and 
gave Pink a warning nudge with his elbow. 

Jacobs, for it was Jeb Horner’s burly foreman, 
reigned in his pony a scant dozen feet from where 
Clive and his companions were standing. 

“ Any of you hombres out ridin’ last night?” he 
asked, his voice razor-edged. 

Clive saw the men behind Jacobs swing light 
hands near their gun-butts. He wiggled his 
fingers at Pink and the latter nonchalantly strolled 
off toward the bunkhouse, reading aright the old 
Ranger signal that Clive had given him. 

“ Might ’a’ be’n,” Clive said evenly. “ Why?” 

“ And maybe yuh might ’a’ set our barn and 
shed and fruit-house on fire too, hey?” rasped 
Jacobs. 

“ Was yore barn set on fire last night?” Clive 
asked, his voice innocently sympathetic. “ Now 
ain’t that the dangest thing yuh ever heard of? 
Our barn was burned, too; on’y that was the night 
afore last. Yuh reckon the same fellers could-a 
set both fires?” 

Jacobs’ face whitened swiftly and rage flared 
in his narrow-set eyes. 

“ No, I don’t reckon they could,” he ground out. 
“ I reckon the hombres what visited our place 
come from the Swinging J, and I’m a-aimin’ to 
find out for shore.” 


70 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


“ He’p yorese’f to the information, cowboy,” 
said Clive. 64 Yo’re welcome to all yuh can learn 
here.” He waved a careless hand about the 
grounds and spat contemptuously. 

44 Yuh danged whelp,” roared Jacobs, 44 1 reckon 
yuh had a hand in that fire last night yorese’f, 
Mister Man. Git yore hoss and come along with 
us to the old man’s, and see what he’s got ready 
and waitin’ for yuh.” 

44 1 reckon yo’re a-referrin’ to yore mangy old 
boss,” said Clive easily. 44 Howsumever, if he 
wants to see me yuh tell ’im to come over this-a- 
way. Last time I was at yore place yuh was so 
danged onmannerly when I asked yuh for a job 
that yuh wouldn’t even invite me to chuck, and I 
was hongry as hell.” 

44 No, not the last time yuh was at our ranch, 
yuh pie-eyed buzzard,” yelled Jacobs, 44 for the 
last time yuh was at the Box 0 was last night, 
and I reckon I can prove it,” he added* trium¬ 
phantly. 

Clive repressed a start. He saw Jacobs’ hand 
rising and from it dangled a concho from a pair of 
chaps; it was the exact counterpart to others that 
hung on Clive’s legs. Somehow, it had been cut 
off during the previous night’s affair, and Clive had 
not noticed it. Jacobs held the concho out. 

44 Did yuh ever see that afore?” he asked. 

Clive gazed at it, perfect innocence and wonder 
simulated in his eyes. 

44 Why,” he cried, as though delighted that he 


FIRE AND CONFLICT 


71 


had made a discovery. 64 That’s muh concho. I 
be’n a-missin’ that ever since the day yuh told me 
to skedaddle off yore ranch. I’m shore glad yuh 
found it.” 

44 Quit yore damn’ play-actin’. Mister. That 
concho was found out under our orange trees, and 
yuh wasn’t near them trees the day yuh asked me 
for a job.” 

Clive decided to take Jacobs’ advice. He quit 
his 44 play-actin’,” but not in the manner the burly 
Box 0 foreman wished. In the first place, he made 
a flying leap and retrieved the tell-tale concho; in 
the second place he cried: 

44 1 ain’t here to answer a lot of damn’ fool 
questions for yuh, yuh dang’ Piute. Now, yuh 
herd them buzzards of yore’n around and take ’em 
to hell off this ranch.” 

As though this were a signal he had been await¬ 
ing, Jacobs’ hand flashed for his gun, while behind 
him his men scattered and rushed. Six-shooters 
flared and crashed, spouting smoke and flame. Bull 
Ellerby grunted and sat down heavily, blood stain¬ 
ing his shirt at his right shoulder. Ormsby’s hat 
flew from his head and sailed a dozen feet distant, 
while Faro’s left arm jerked queerly, then flopped 
limply against his side. Clive felt the scorching 
sear of a bullet across his ribs and felt, too, the 
wind temporarily driven from his lungs. 

Meantime, Two-Gun Farrell had gone into action, 
gun in either hand, and they were roaring their 
blasts of death and destruction; a blast that anni- 


72 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


hilated whichever way it struck. Two-Gun’s pale 
face was deathly white and his black, somber eyes 
were twin flames of green. A smile twisted the 
corners of his mouth. His guns blazed with a 
precision that was as deadly as it was steady. 

Jacobs pitched from his saddle, striking the 
ground heavily, while behind him a rider went 
slumping across his saddle horn, a tiny blue hole 
growing like magic between his eyes. Just then 
a volley belched from the bunkhouse as the Swing¬ 
ing J riders went into action. Almost as one, three 
men pitched from their saddles and joined Jacobs 
on the ground. 

Surprised by the fire from the bunkhouse and by 
the numbers of the punchers who had appeared 
from there, the Box 0 riders hastily put up their 
guns and turned to flee. Clive’s voice roared: 

66 Stay where yuh are, cowboys, or yuh’ll every 
damn’ one eat lead. Take yore boss and them 
stinkin’ hawgs layin’ there on the ground with 
yuh when yuh go, and do it pronto ” 

The Box 0 riders dropped from their saddles, 
hands held carefully away from their guns. 
Jacobs they found shot through each shoulder, vic¬ 
tim of Two-Gun Farrell’s first devastating blast. 
He was unconscious. Two of the men on the 
ground were dead as was also the one who still was 
slumped across his saddle horn. Three others were 
wounded. 

On the other hand, Bull Ellerby would be out 
of commission for some time. A bullet had 


FIRE AND CONFLICT 


73 


smashed into his right shoulder. Faro Latimer’s 
left arm had a deep gash through the flesh below 
the elbow, and Milk River Ellis had a bullet in 
the calf of his right leg. Clive felt blood running 
from a sore spot on his ribs, but otherwise 
seemed no worse for his experience. 

While Bull and Milk River were being carried 
into the bunkhouse, Clive watched the Box 0 
riders tie their dead comrades onto their recent 
mounts; watched while they made their wounded 
men as comfortable as possible and started on the 
long ride back to the Box 0, then said: 

66 Now, you fellers keep goin’ and don’t none 
of yuh ever come back here. We’re a-goin’ to put 
the Swingin’ J back on its feet and from now on 
6 no trespassin’ ’ is the sign over the whole dang’ 
shebang. Fust man that sets foot on Swingin’ J 
property hereafter, ’thout he’s got honest business 
here, eats lead. Just keep that under yore hats 
and tell it to that old sheep-killin’ dog yuh work 
for.” 

Bitter oaths and threats were hurled at him, but 
the Box 0 men were too wise to offer further show 
of violence, and rode, cursing, from the yard. 
Clive doubted whether Clem Jacobs would survive 
until he reached Horner’s place. 


CHAPTER VI 
Round-Up Plans are Laid 

Clive saw Forest leave the house and come 
toward him. Her face was white and her eyes 
were horror-filled. He knew she had witnessed 
the affair in the yard. She came directly to him. 

66 Clive, this fighting is terrible, and I cannot 
stand it. Some of those men were killed and I 
saw two of your friends being carried into the 
bunkhouse, wounded. Isn’t there any way to run 
my ranch without shooting people?” 

66 Not when said people just nacherally comes 
a-gunnin’ for yuh,” he answered grimly. “ I’m 
sorry yuh saw this leetle shindig, Miss Forest, but 
I reckon it can’t be helped now. But don’t yuh 
worry none. We ain’t a-killin’ nobody that ain’t 
tryin’ to do us fust.” 

“ Those wounded men must be cared for,” she 
continued. 66 Are they hurt seriously?” 

66 1 don’t reckon they’re a-goin’ to die, if that’s 
what yuh mean. Bull’s hurt worse’n anybody else. 
He got a bullet in the shoulder. I reckon they’re 
fixin’ him up now, and if yuh got anything in the 
way of clean bandages like, I reckon it would be 
appreciated.” 

Forest fled to the house, returning almost imme¬ 
diately with clean linen strips, iodine and cotton. 
She handed these to Clive, asking: 

74 


ROUND-UP PLANS ARE LAID 


75 


“ I wonder if I might be of assistance?” 

66 1 don’t reckon yuh can. Blaze Ormsby’s 
studied medicine and holds a diplomy ’long with 
his other accomplishments, apd I reckon he’ll see 
that Bull’s fixed top shape. Howsumever, if he 
needs yuh, I’ll let yuh know, pronto ” 

Forest watched Clive as he disappeared inside 
the bunkhouse. Her heart was torn with mixed 
emotions. She loathed the bloodshed and tur¬ 
moil, yet she was sensible enough to realize that 
the fight in the yard had not been of her own out¬ 
fit’s choosing. The men had merely defended 
themselves. 

She felt a thrill of excitement tug at her heart¬ 
strings as she recalled the glorious manner in 
which Two-Gun Farrell, shooting with a speed and 
precision that had been astounding, had splayed 
the ranks of the enemy with messengers of death; 
how the others of the Swinging J had gone into 
action on the instant without fear for selves or the 
outcome. 

It attested to their marksmanship that dead men 
were being taken back to the Box 0, while only 
one badly wounded Swinging J man was in the 
bunkhouse. She sighed, but decided to say no 
more. The thing was settled so far as she was 
concerned; her gauge was in Clive’s capable hands, 
and she would let him pursue his own methods of 
fighting her persecutors. 

Inside the bunkhouse Bull Ellerby had been 
attended to first by Ormsby, while Milk River 


76 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Ellis, painfully, but not seriously hurt, lay back 
on his bunk and allowed Jingle Jones to bathe his 
leg. He probably would have to keep off his feet 
for some time, but otherwise was no worse for 
the encounter. As for Faro Latimer, he made light 
of the gash in his arm, permitting only that it be 
lightly bandaged and refusing even to place it in 
a sling. 

Surveying the scene Clive summed up the net 
results of the last few days of hectic events. 

64 Well, things is a-goin’ right along with a rush 
and a bang,” he grinned. 44 First, we had a leetle 
brush with some Mex shepherds, then we turns a 
bunch of woolies into old Bender’s alfalfy and has 
a leetle argyment next day with old Bender his- 
self. Then them damn’ skunks from the Box 0 
bums our barn and we burns their barn, tool shed 
and fruit-house. Finally we has a smash with the 
Box 0 hands and we gets three men hurt to their 
three daid and three hurt. Looks to me like we 
was ahead all the way ’round.” 

44 What about yorese’f, Clive? Yuh be’n a-bleed- 
in’, ain’t yuh?” It was Lonesome who asked. 

For the first time since that searing flame had 
pained him Clive remembered his own condition 
and hurriedly drew off his shirt. The skin was 
broken over his left ribs, but the bleeding had 
ceased and he was in no pain. He washed off 
the dried blood and Ormsby strapped a piece of 
clean linen over the wound, holding it in place with 
a heavy piece of adhesive plaster. Choosing fresh 


ROUND-UP PLANS ARE LAID 77 

shirts, Clive drew them on and declared himself 
to be as fit as ever. 

“What are we goin’ to do next, Tex? ’Pears 
to me we ain’t a-goin’ to have a lot of peace around 
yere, now that the ball’s started rollin’. Shore 
as yore gran’mammy didn’t have chin-whiskers 
we’re a-goin’ to have more trouble.” 

Lonesome was speaking again and the others 
concurred in what he said. 

“ Well, we gotta take things easy till the wagon 
gets back with our fodder and then with all hands 
on deck ’ceptin’ Bull and Milk River, I don’t 
reckon we’re a-goin’ to worry a lot over what 
happens,” Clive replied. 

66 1 bet them Box 0 hombres come at us right, 
next time,” opined Chick Purdy. 

“ Let ’em,” snapped Clive. “ I ain’t a-worryin’ 
none. Fust thing we ort to do now, seems to me, 
is to get Miss Forest’s cows rounded up. Blaze, 
in addition to yore bein’ a singer, a langwidge 
slinger, a gun artist and a dang’ good doctor, yuh 
used to draw purty pictures and make little doo¬ 
dads with a pen and ink. I wonder can yuh make 
me some signs that they’s a-goin’ to be a round-up. 
Make ’em warn everybody that we’re a-goin’ to 
stage it all by our lonesome onless the rest of the 
valley cares to send hands to protect its interests. 
I want about twenty, so’s I can post ’em prominent 
like where every sheep nose in the place will see 
’em. And make ’em big.” 

64 I’ll be happy to oblige you, Tex,” said Blaze, 


78 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


his soft, slow voice eager. 66 You will have to 
round up something for me to work with, however.” 

66 Me, I’m a-tellin’ yuh that what we want is to 
paint them signs dang good and big on boards, then 
nail ’em up, so’s nobody can say we didn’t do it 
proper like,” said Hokum, and the others agreed at 
once that he was right. 

As a result, about an hour later Blaze Ormsby 
was seated in the shade of the bunkhouse, small 
brush and can of black paint before him, paint¬ 
ing beautiful letters on what once had been the 
tops of cases containing canned foods. Charley 
Long had supplied the material. When Blaze 
finished, after two hours of endeavor, he stood one 
of the boards up where it was prominent and the 
punchers stood back to admire it. 

On this board, Blaze had given his artistic bent 
full play. Above the lettering was a remarkable 
likeness of a steer, on its broad flank the ranch’s 
brand, a swinging capital J. Beneath this appeared 
the words: 

NOTICE 

The undersigned will round up, beginning 
at once, all cattle on the open range bear¬ 
ing the Swinging J brand. If any are inter¬ 
ested they are hereby notified to send riders, 
in order that the interests of all ranches may 
be served and protected. If no help is forth¬ 
coming, the undersigned will conduct the 
round-up independently. 


F. Glade. 


ROUND-UP PLANS ARE LAID 


79 


Lazy Turner, surveying the pictured likeness of 
the steer, gasped. 

66 Say, Blaze,” he said, 66 what’ll yuh take to 
draw muh pitcher for me?” 

Brindie Thorp let out a guffaw. 

46 Yuh pore shote, Blaze cain’t draw no pitcher 
of a jackass,” he jeered. 

44 Just ee-magine Lazy’s ears in a pitcher,” 
chortled Pink Sellers. 

44 And them two by twenty-two feet,” snickered 
Piute Allen. 

44 And them eyes,” snorted Mojave Evans. 

44 And them nose-” but Honey Malloy’s 

further comment was cut short by a roar from Lazy. 

44 Yuh danged, onmannerly gophers,” he yelled. 
“What do yuh think yuh know about art, anyhow? 
I reckon I’d look a dang’ sight better in a pitcher 
than some of you shad-bellied pin-dogs, at that.” 

44 You hombres , forget art and go get yore 
ponies,” broke in Clive. 44 1 want yuh to come 
with me. Grab them boards and we’ll go put ’em 
up. Chick, yuh go to the tool shed and rustle some 
hammers and nails. Jingle, yuh go tell Miss Forest 
what we’re up to. Wyomin’, you and Two-Gun and 
Faro will stay here at the ranch and keep yore eyes 
peeled. Somebody’s got to keep guard here, and 
besides that Bull and Milk River may be a-needin’ 
things. Everybody else will travel with me.” 

44 Yuh figgerin’ on coverin’ the whole valley with 
these, Tex?” asked Lonesome as the party spurred 
away from the house. 



80 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


44 1 reckon so, Lonesome. We don’t want to 
do nothin’ that them c’yotes can say wasn’t a fair 
shake for them. Looks like we got a lot of ridin’ 
ahead of us, cowboys. How many signs did yuh 
make, Blaze?” 

44 Thirty, I believe. I anticipated that you would 
be placarding the entire country hereabouts at 
vantage points, so I tried to make enough. Only 
the one has the decoration, however.” 

They rode rapidly, knowing the way would be 
far and perhaps that trouble would be met before 
they were finished. The Swinging J line ended 
before they reached Cougar Creek and from there 
on Clive watched for places he thought would be 
proper points to post his boards. At the ford he 
nailed the sign that carried the steer’s likeness, 
fastening it to a large willow and trimming fa way 
the branches so that all who passed on the high¬ 
way might see it. At the line fence, marking the 
northern end of the open range and the beginning 
of the Box 0, he nailed another, then the party 
clattered up the road. 

They passed the Box 0 without a pause, although 
all looked with interest back through the orange 
trees and into the clump of cottonwoods that held 
the ranch house. A few derisive yells and curses 
greeted them, but there was no openly hostile 
demonstration aside from that. Their next notice 
was nailed to a cottonwood directly on the line 
fence between the Box 0 and the M-Bar-T, and 
after that they nailed the boards handy to the Dol- 


ROUND-UP PLANS ARE LAID 


81 


lar M, the Lazy X, the Square D and the Crazy H. 

By now the day was well advanced and they 
had ridden nearly forty miles. Their course had 
taken them to the extreme northern end of the val¬ 
ley and they had swung back on the western side 
of the range. The Bar T, Diamond L, Circle C and 
Bender’s were yet to be taken care of, and they 
gave their ponies no opportunities to lag. There 
still remained nine signs. 

They had left the Crazy H and were spurring 
across the Bar T when Shad Stevens, riding beside 
Clive, said: 

46 There’s a bunch of riders cornin’ our way, 
Tex; looks like they was aimin’ to pick us up.” 

Clive drew rein and looked to his right. From 
the direction of the Square D came a large crowd 
of men on horseback. They were riding rapidly 
and heading directly toward the Swinging J outfit. 

44 We goin’ to wait for ’em, Tex?” asked Honey 
Malloy. 

44 Might as well, I reckon,” he answered. 

A red-haired, lanky puncher with lean features 
and a dour face rode at the head of the oncoming 
men. As they drew up with the Swinging J riders, 
this individual advanced ahead of the others and 
raised his right hand in the universal peace greet¬ 
ing of the range-land. Clive responded in kind. 
The red-haired man spoke: 

44 You fellers the ones that’s puttin’ up them 
round-up notices?” 

44 1 reckon we are,” Clive answered. 


82 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


66 Then I guess yo’re part of the bunch that’s 
ridin’ for the Swingin’ J now.” 

66 Yuh guessed right, first try.” 

66 Don’t yuh want to throw in with better out¬ 
fits?” The red-haired man’s tones were ingrati¬ 
ating. 

Clive pretended to be extremely interested, and 
he cast a meaning wink in the direction of Shad 
before he spoke. 

44 Meanin’ what?” he countered. 

64 Well, the Square D can use five good men and 
the Crazy H needs three. I onderstands the Dollar 
M and some of the others want top hands, too. 
They all pay fifty and chuck, and that is more’n 
yo’re gettin’ where yuh are, I reckon.” 

46 Yep, that’s some money, all right,” Clive said. 
44 How do yuh know we could get jobs at them 
places?” 

44 Well, I ain’t sayin’ how, but I know, and yuh 
can take my word for it that if yuh go to any of 
them places and let ’em know what yo’re after, 
yuh’ll be taken on right off. I used to work for 
that gal over to the Swingin’ J, but she was just a 
jelly-fish, not able to run her place. Every time 
somethin’ happened she’d come around yowlin’ for 
us to do somethin’ about it and wantin’ us to go 
out and raise merry hell. We was bein’ paid to 
punch cows, not to fight, and then we got the same 
kind of a offer I’m makin’ yuh now, and most of 
us pulled out.” 

44 I’ll think over what yuh say, cowboy,” Clive 


ROUND-UP PLANS ARE LAID 83 

informed him. 66 Mebbe, a leetle later, we’ll be 
cornin’ around yere a-takin’ them jobs.” 

44 Them jobs ain’t a-goin’ to be open less’n yuh 
take ’em right away,” the other rejoined. 

66 Then I reckon we ain’t interested, not any,” 
Clive declared. 

The red-haired man showed yellow teeth in a 
sardonic grin. 

44 ’Pears like it’s true, then, what I heard,” he 
observed. 

“Meanin’?” queried Clive, softly. 

64 Meanin’ yo’re a passel and part of them gun¬ 
men the gal brought in from Texas. Well, yuh 
won’t git far. Yuh be’n lucky up to now, but 
watch yore rope, cowboy, or yuh’ll find it drag- 
gin’, shore as hell.” 

44 If muh rope drags, they’ll be somebody fas¬ 
tened to t’other end of it,” said Clive. 

44 Aw, hell, Cherry,” exclaimed a voice among 
the riders, 44 don’t chin-chin with them hombres 
no longer. Come on, we got to git busy, and Spear 
didn’t tell us to start no fannin’ bee with these 
geezers.” 

44 1 guess yo’re right, Boots,” said Red-Head, 
obviously the man addressed as Cherry. 44 Well, 
s’long,” he rasped to Clive, and turned his pony. 
In a trice he was leading his party at a reckless 
gallop, headed toward the Bar T. 

44 Now, what do yuh think of that?” asked Clive 
of no one in particular as he watched Cherry and 
his companions spur off. 44 We’re bribed to quit 


84 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Miss Forest, and we’re told we be’n lucky to get 
as far as we have. Well, come on, cowboys, we got 
a long ride and a lot of work to do yet.” 

66 Hey, Tex, did yuh see that bunch of signs some 
of them buzzards was a-carryin’ with ’em?” asked 
Spud. 66 They was new-made ones, too; I could 
tell by the clean boards and they was ‘no trespas- 
sin’ ’ signs.” 

66 1 seen somethin’ them bozos was carryin’, but 
I couldn’t make out what they was,” he replied. 

At the line fence that separated the Crazy H and 
the Bar T they swung to the left, seeing an open¬ 
ing in the barbed wire. When they reached it, 
they found their way was barred by a huge notice 
posted on the gate: 

NO TREsPAsEN 


Misspelled, the letter S turned backward where- 
ever it occurred, the sign was obviously meant for 
their benefit. Clive eyed it reflectively, then 
grinned. 

66 Saves us a heap of trouble. If they put that 
sign up there, it’s a shore bet more people’n us 
comes this-a-way, so we’ll just nail one of our’n 
below that’n let it go at that. We can cut across 
the tip of the Box 0, hit the open range, then put 
up a sign at the Diamond L. I reckon by then 
it’ll be time to scoot for home. We’ll ride out 
after supper and post old Bender’s place and the 
Circle C, and we’ll put our last two signs clear over 


ROUND-UP PLANS ARE LAID 85 

by the beginnin’ of the trail through Saddleback 
Pass.” 

44 Hell, Tex,” cried Blaze Ormsby. 64 Are you 
going to allow that sign to stop us? If you are, 
then 1 would like to know how we shall get out of 
here, for of course by now the Box 0 will have 
similar signs posted. It is impossible to get 
around without using these private roads, and these 
men know it. That is why they have set these 
notices against us.” 

44 Well,” said Clive, 44 it really is savin’ us time 
if we don’t go clear across the Bar T. As for any¬ 
body keepin’ us from goin’ across the Box 0, I’d 
like to see ’em try it. They already had a taste of 
our smoke and I reckon they ain’t wantin’ any more 
of it sudden like. Hurry with that sign, Shad, and 
we’ll sail across the Box 0 right here.” 

The notice nailed into place, Clive led the way 
and they rode back to the Box 0 line fence. Here, 
Clive drew forth his wire snippers, having carried 
them with him constantly, and cut the top two 
strands, waiting until the others were over and 
then urging Thunder to the leap. He and Honey 
Malloy skilfully repaired the damage they had 
done and the party struck off once again toward 
the open range. 

They rode warily, eyes and ears alert, for they 
knew the Box 0 outfit would make it hot for them 
if they could. However, nothing untoward tran¬ 
spired and late in the afternoon they came to the 
fences of the Diamond L. Signs were nailed here, 


86 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


too, and after posting their own notice, the party- 
swung off toward home. 

Crossing the ford of Cougar Creek they glanced 
toward the willow where the first sign had been 
nailed. It was still there, but had been splintered 
from top to bottom under the crashing impact of a 
hundred bullets that had perforated it from end 
to end and side to side. 

Clive chuckled. 

66 Well, I reckon somebody’s shore seen it, any¬ 
ways.” 


CHAPTER VII 
The Fight in the Pass 

At the ranch they found Charley Long had held 
supper pending their arrival, and were informed 
that nothing of moment had occurred during the 
day. Clive, while pleased at the news, knew that 
it probably meant their enemies were lying low 
temporarily, the while they laid plans for one 
swoop that would wipe out the aspirations of the 
Swinging J. 

Two-Gun Farrell, after supper, declared he was 
going out with the night party, so Clive designated 
Mojave Evans to remain behind and assist m 
guarding the ranch. Then the party, mounted on 
fresh horses and carrying the remainder of their 
signs, struck off down the road toward Saddle¬ 
back Pass. 

Bender’s ranch, the Circle C and the Swinging J 
joined at the same point on the highway, with 
only the road itself separating the two former. 
The road cut the Swinging J in half from its 
northern to its southern sides. 

At the meeting of the Swinging J and the Circle 
C there was a line fence, and across the road, to 
the right as one faced the pass, the Bender fence 
stalked back across the valley, Forest’s property 
paralleling. Here, a notice was posted, then Clive 
said: 

46 Now, we’re a-goin’ on down the road, put up 
87 


88 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


signs at the lane leadin’ to old Bender’s house 
and at the one that runs to the Circle C ranch 
house. After that we want to put one at the far 
end of these yere ranches and take the last one to 
post at the valley end of the pass. I reckon that’ll 
wind us up and we can go home and be peaceable 
like for the time bein’.” 

And so it was done. As Shad drove the last 
nail into the last sign, which he posted on a huge 
cottonwood just where the trail up over the Saddle¬ 
back Pass left the valley, a clatter of hoofs coming 
down the steep road gave them pause. Hands 
swinging lightly near their guns, they waited. Shad 
hit the nail a final blow and stuck the hammer into 
a saddle pocket he had attached for that pur¬ 
pose, then drew back among the others and waited 
with them. 

They could tell by the drumming of the 
approaching horse’s hoofs that some one was riding 
furiously, and, judging by the sounds, there was 
only one animal coming — a lone rider storming 
down out of the pass. They watched closely to see 
who it would be that would burst out of the 
shrouding palo verde and chaparral that lined the 
roadside. Then the horse came in view, racing 
recklessly, furiously, down the hill, a rider cling¬ 
ing to the saddle horn and weaving from side to 
side as though he were about to pitch to the 
ground. The moonlight struck on his face, un¬ 
shielded because his hat was missing, and Shad 
let out a whoop: 


THE FIGHT IN THE PASS 


89 


“ That’s Brick Howard, and he’s be’n shot!” 

The others recognized Brick on the instant and 
spurred to meet him. He greeted them with a weak 
smile and quick words: 

66 They’re after the wagon, ’bout six — eight 
miles back, Tex. Must be twenty or more of ’em. 
Ambushed us. Fust shots brought down the hosses 
and knocked out Bing and Wag. I reckon Wag’s 
daid, and I know Bing’s got a busted arm and 
laig. Yuh’ll have to hurry, cowboy. I managed 
to git through to ride for you hombres, and I’m 
Gawd-awful thankful yo’re this close. They 
pinked me twice, once in muh arm and twice in 
muh laig.” 

Clive was instantly alert, his face setting in stern 
lines and his eyes flashing. He turned in his sad¬ 
dle, raising his voice: 

64 Jingle, you ride back with Brick. He mightn’t 
make it, and yuh’ll have to help ’im if he tuckers 
out. The rest of you buckaroos come a-runnin’; 
we’re a-goin’ after that wagon, and if they’ve killed 
Wag Derrin’, God help ’em.” His voice was razor- 
edged, strong and vibrant. 

Brick spoke up: 

66 Jingle, you go with ’em. I can make it to the 
ranch, ’specially now that I don’t have to ride so 
hard. YuhTl be needin’ all of yuh to straighten 
that bunch out, if I’m any judge of their force.” 

Clive looked swiftly toward Brick, saw him 
straighten in his saddle, a brave smile on his face. 
Clive nodded his head toward the pass and touched 


90 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


his heels to his pony’s sides. He darted forward 
like a streak, the others closing in behind him. 

Brick watched them depart, holding his upright 
position, but when they were fairly out of sight in 
the pass, he slumped weakly across his saddle horn, 
let his arms hang loosely across the horse’s neck, 
and gave the animal its own rein. It started on a 
slow walk, for it was fairly winded, along the road. 
Brick fought to retain consciousness. 

Up into the pass rode the riders from the Swing¬ 
ing J, hearts swelling, eyes alert, lips tight and 
faces tense. Two-Gun Farrell, his silver-mounted 
six-guns gleaming in the moonlight, spurred his 
mount viciously and ranged alongside of Clive. 
Blaze Ormsby followed suit and lined up with 
Clive on his other side, and thus, the three abreast, 
they led the furious pace up the steep hill-trail, the 
others following so closely that it was a miracle men 
and horses did not come down in a tangled, scram¬ 
bled mass. 

Six or eight miles, Brick had said, and a good 
portion of the way uphill. With Brick, Bing and 
Wag out of the fight, that left only Reb Sefton, 
Laramie, Fog and Silk Kingsbury able to throw a 
gun, and Brick had said at least twenty were in the 
attacking party. Clive spurred his horse to greater 
effort and the others followed suit. No words were 
spoken and aside from the drumming of the clat¬ 
tering hoofs, the only sound that broke the stillness 
of the somber pass was the heavy breathing of the 
laboring animals. 


THE FIGHT IN THE PASS 


91 


On and on they rode. The crest of the pass was 
reached and the road became fairly level, dipping 
at intervals, rising at others, but on the whole 
fairly easy to travel. After a time the sound of 
shooting reached them and Clive drew his winded 
pony to a slower pace, raising a hand. 

64 Easy, boys,” he called. 64 If they’s twenty of 
’em, we got to sorta su’prise ’em. Like as not 
they’ll be a-bushwhackin’ from behind boulders 
and things and they’s no use in us rushin’ ’em and 
lettin’ ’em pulverize us right off th’ reel. Some of 
our boys is left, or there wouldn’t be no shootin’ 
yet, I reckon, so from here on we go easy like and 
when we get closer we leave the hosses, circle back 
from the road .and come down on them skunks like 
the Red Sea came down on old Pharaoh.” 

There was wisdom in his plan. The horses, wel¬ 
coming the easing from the strain of the long, 
tumultuous ride, went forward at a steady, moder¬ 
ate pace. The sounds of shooting grew louder and 
seemed to come from a point to their right. They 
sensed that the road turned near here, passing 
around an outjutting ridge, and that just across this 
they probably would find the wagon. 

Clive drew rein and dismounted, tossing the 
reins across his pony’s head and allowing them to 
drag on the ground. The others followed suit and 
the horses stood silently, heads down, nostrils flar¬ 
ing as they struggled to recoup from the terrific ride 
through the pass. 

It is no easy task to climb a rough, treacherous 


92 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Arizona hillside in the high-heeled boots of the cow 
country, but the Swinging J riders did it, wincing 
never at all at the outrage to their sensitive, under: 
sized feet. They finally gained the crest of the 
ridge and from this vantage point they could see 
their wagon in the road below them, perhaps five 
hundred feet away. The moonlight bathed the 
scene in a brilliant, golden flood. 

The horses were lying dead in the traces. From 
both sides of the defile came little flashes of light 
and the cracking pops of six-guns, mingled with an 
occasional spiteful, whiplike spang of a rifle. The 
air was pungent with the acrid smell of burned 
powder. Clive looked closely for signs of life at 
the wagon and wondered where its defenders were 
hiding. A rattling volley told him. The men of 
the wagon were inside, using the boxed and baled 
goods as a rampart, and were firing at the flashes 
on the hillside. Two or three silent forms, 
sprawled in the moonlight, indicated a rush had 
been made on the wagon with dire results, and 
that the attackers had decided on a long-distance 
battle. Clive laid his battle plans carefully, with 
the aid of Two-Gun Farrell and Blaze Ormsby. 

The others were gathered near, hands on their 
guns, anxious to get going, and they waited im¬ 
patiently while Clive, Two-Gun and Blaze con¬ 
ferred, then: 

64 That bein’ settled, then,” Clive whispered to 
Ormsby, 44 you and Shad take six men, go back 
along the point, cross the road and work in back of 


THE FIGHT IN THE PASS 


93 


them hombres over there. We’ll wait here gettin’ 
our men spotted and we’ll not move till yo’re ready. 
When yuh get set, let ’er rip and with yore first 
shot we’ll pile hell-bent down out-a here and take 
these galoots from this side. I think we’ll smash 
’em pronto if we handle it right.” 

Blaze breathed an affirmative, adding: 

“ I’ll bet you a new hat there are more than 
twenty men in this gang, Tex. I would judge there 
are at least thirty, perhaps more.” 

66 The more, the merrier,” said Clive grimly. 
66 We got to clean ’em out, so damn the difference 
how many there is. Let’s get busy.” 

He watched silently as Blaze, Shad and the others 
crawled off cautiously, careful that they kept 
clumps of sage and sun-baked boulders between 
them and possible enemy eyes. Then Clive and 
those with him worked a careful way down the 
ridge. All had been watching the pin-points of 
light that flared in the shadows, picking their men. 
Two-Gun Farrell stayed close to Clive and the two 
led the way. A blot behind a boulder attracted 
their attention and Clive put a warning hand on 
Two-Gun’s arm. The latter stopped his stealthy 
crawl and remained silent. 

Creeping careful, Clive came up behind the 
shadow under the lee of the boulder and his gun- 
barrel made a flashing arc in the moonlight. It 
crashed heavily across a high-crowned sombrero 
and the wearer promptly crumpled up and flattened 
out in the sand. Clive bent over him, turning the 


94 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


man on his back. A red thatch and a lean, hawk¬ 
like face, its eyes closed, stared up at him. It was 
Cherry of the Square D. He put his hand over 
the man’s heart and felt it pulsing feebly, then he 
raised up. Cherry was knocked completely out, 
but he had not been killed. 

Two-Gun joined him and together they yanked 
off Cherry’s shirt and bound the man’s hands and 
feet with strips taken from it. From the dirty 
bandana that swung at Cherry’s neck they made a 
gag and then left the sorrel-thatched one trussed 
like a fowl and helpless behind the boulder. 

The gun fire was now all around and below 
them. They were in the rear ranks of the force 
which was attacking from this side of the road. A 
voice suddenly called: 

“ What’s the matter, Cherry? Yore lead all 
gone?” 

Clive realized that the absence of firing from 
the boulder which sheltered Cherry had been 
noticed and not caring to hurt his own plans he 
decided on a subterfuge. He thrust his own six- 
gun over the boulder, held it high and aimed at a 
flash of light on the opposite slope. He pulled the 
trigger and almost immediately an answering 
volley lit up the sides of the wagon. A yell from 
across the road sounded and a man rose from be¬ 
side a boulder, spinning briefly before he pitched 
forward on his face. Clive knew his bullet had 
gone home under cover of the fire from the wagon. 

He wondered how soon Blaze would open the 


THE FIGHT IN THE PASS 


95 


counter-attack, and his fingers were itching to pull 
his six-gun on the shadows all about him. Across 
the road there sounded all at once a rattling volley. 

“Yipee-e-e-e!” It was the battle cry of the 
range-land that sounded from the farther slope. 
66 Yipee-e-e-e!” 

Clive’s heart thrilled. It was Blaze Ormsby’s 
voice and the shooting came from Ormsby and the 
men with him. At the first crash of their shots a 
furor broke loose across the road and men rose 
from behind boulders, seeking to protect them¬ 
selves from this surprise attack in the rear. Clive 
saw the hidden marksmen about him rising and 
making ready to go to the aid of their suddenly 
beset comrades. He raised his own voice: 

66 Yipee-e-e-e! Let ’em have it, cowboys; 
shoot ’em up, yuh wild, roarin’ buckaroos. Kill 
the damn’ rattlers and chop off their tails. 
Yipee-e-e-e!” 

He heard a roar beside him and saw Two-Gun 
Farrell, his silver-mounted revolvers flashing in 
the moonlight, standing beside a boulder, firing 
with cool deliberation and deadly aim across the 
scarred surface of the rock. Men were dropping 
like flies and on all sides guns were exploding while 
shrill yells of fear and rage thundered through 
the pass. Clive realized for the first time that he 
was pulling the trigger of his own six-gun and he 
cursed when the hammer fell on an empty shell. 
Cherry’s gun was in his other hand and he lifted 
it, continuing to pour lead toward every flitting 


96 THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 

shadow that crossed his vision. He let out another 
yell: 

66 You in the wagon, there, give ’em hell. We’re 
all here, cowboys, and we’re a-goin’ to clean up this 
bunch of skunks pronto /” 

Fog Carruthers’ voice sounded from the be¬ 
leaguered wagon: 

66 Give ’em hell yorese’f, Clive; we be’n a-handin’ 
it to ’em for hours.” 

Men were now running from behind boulders, 
cacti clumps and palo verde bushes, making for the 
road. A yell and a clattering of hoofs sounded 
up the road and around the point came more than 
a score of horses, plunging madly. Two had 
burning pieces of paper attached to their flaring 
tails. 

66 Yipee-e-e-e!” It was Honey Malloy’s voice. 
64 Watch ’em run, cowboy. Like to see them skunks 
git away from us now. There go their hosses.” 

Curses and angry cries followed. A voice 
shouted: 

44 Quit shootin’ and git over the hill; every man 
watch hisself and make yore way out of here damn’ 
fast. Keep close to me and we can stand off these 
hombres; they must be fifty of ’em.” 

Clive let out a derisive yell when he heard the 
fear note in the voice, and he thrilled at this quick 
acknowledgment of defeat. 

His voice was drowned in a fresh outburst of 
firing and from the wagon there came pronounced 
activity. 


THE FIGHT IN THE PASS 


97 


Fog Carruthers stood up on the high seat and by 
the light of the brilliant moon calmly dropped as 
many men as he could before they vanished among 
the boulders far up the ridges and Two-Gun 
Farrell, standing on a tall rock, his deadly six- 
guns working with a certainty of aim that was 
astounding and disheartening to their enemies, also 
was picking off the fleeing raiders. A final rattle 
of shots, then Ormsby yelled: 

“ There aren’t any left to shoot at; they have all 
chased across the hill and are out of sight, Clive.” 

“ Then make for the hosses,” Clive ordered, 
whereupon the Swinging J riders converged on the 
tip of the point, rounded it and mounted their 
ponies, spurring rapidly back to the wagon. A 
guard was thrown out in case the enemy attempted 
a surprise come-back attack. 

Fog Carruthers, standing in the road beside the 
wagon, grinned and greeted them as they showed 
up. 

66 Say,” he asked, 66 how in hell did you fellers 
git here so quick? ’Twasn’t no time after Brick 
said he was a-goin’ for yuh till I heard yuh shootin’ 
and yellin’ like a bunch of locoed Apaches. He 
must ’a’ rode like a streak of greased lightnin’.” 

66 We met him ’bout six miles back, where we was 
a-doin’ some work,” Clive explained briefly. 66 He 
said Wag was daid, Fog; what’s yore damage 
total?” 

Fog’s face turned melancholy on the instant and 
his mouth drooped, 


98 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


66 Yep, Wag’s daid, I reckon, Clive,” he answered 
sorrowfully, “and Bing’s got it bad in the arm and 
laig; both busted, seems like. Silk Kingsbury’s 
got a bullet in his shoulder and Laramie cain’t 
talk. Reb was shot in the laig. I reckon I’m the 
on’y one that wasn’t knocked out. I was drivin’, 
yuh see, and when that first volley let go from the 
rocks and bushes I just dropped the lines and gave 
muhse’f one Gawd-awful heave backwards and 
went plunk in among them groceries and things; 
then I begun to shoot from behind a pile of canned 
peas. The other fellers that could move managed 
to git inside the wagon and them as could shoot 
he’ped me stand off them buzzards. I shore 
thought we was gonners, though; for a fac’ I did.” 

Swiftly they set to work. Wag Deering, love¬ 
able, talkative Wag, was lying in the shadow of 
the wagon. Two bullets had struck him in the 
head and he had died instantly, according to 
Ormsby. In the wagon they found the others, with 
makeshift bandages already applied, grinning 
bravely and cheerfully. That is, all were grinning 
who could. Laramie Wilkins had received a bullet 
in his left cheek and the lead had passed out the 
opposite side of his face, taking several teeth with 
it. His was a painful, but not serious wound. 
Bing, his left leg and arm limp and helpless, was 
the most seriously hurt. Silk’s wound was high 
enough on the shoulder not to be dangerous, but 
the bone had been shattered and he was suffering 
untold agony. 


THE FIGHT IN THE PASS 


99 


Clive turned to Ormsby: 

“ Blaze, yo’re a doctor, and I reckon there’s 
plenty here for yuh to practice on.” 

“ I’m already at work, Tex,” the versatile 
Ormsby answered. 66 I’ve just finished putting a 
bandage on Fog’s left arm. He said he wasn’t 
hurt, but his left biceps were almost severed by a 
slug of lead. Now, get aside while I fix up Bing.” 

Ormsby knelt inside the wagon where the cased- 
goods had been pushed aside in order that a place 
could be made for the injured. Hastily, but care¬ 
fully, he examined them all, then announced: 

66 These temporary bandages will have to do 
until we get back to the ranch, boys. I have my 
tools there, you know, and I think I can get them 
started back to Wellville once I have them in their 
bunks and where I can watch them.” 

Blaze stayed inside with the wounded, his quick, 
gentle hands soothing when a pain shot through 
an injured part. The others attached lariats to 
the wagon and put harness from two dead horses on 
a wheel team, and with eight cow ponies dragging 
on the lariats and Lonesome Hines at the brake, the 
cavalcade started. An advance guard preceded it 
and two men rode considerably to the rear. They 
did not intend to be taken by surprise, but none 
felt there was a great deal of danger from this 
source since, with Honey’s stampeding of their 
mounts, the attackers probably were cursing a 
weary-footed way homeward. 

Hours later they arrived at the ranch, worn and 


100 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


weary. Wag Deering’s body was carried inside 
and laid tenderly in a bunk. Brick Howard occu¬ 
pied another, swathed in makeshift bandages and 
endeavoring to be cheerful. 

It was then that Blaze Ormsby demonstrated that 
the country lost a mighty good physician and 
surgeon when he decided he preferred the life of 
the range to that of a doctor in some small settle¬ 
ment and the cares that went with the calling. 
With painstaking care and skillful touch he probed 
gently, antisepticized and bound up wounds and 
while he was about it, he re-dressed Bull Ellerby’s 
hurts, noting with satisfaction that the latter was 
coming around nicely. 

When Blaze finally finished with his task, Clive 
said: 

“Now I want five of you fellers to go outside 
and keep watch. Ride off a ways from the house 
and hide yorese’ves and stay where yuh can see 
all approaches. Stay there till mornin’ for there’s 
no tellin’ what them pole-cats may do. We 
scrotched some of ’em in the pass and when the 
survivors reaches home I reckon they’ll just nacher- 
ally get ready to come over yere and chaw us up.” 

Came a knock at the bunkhouse door and Forest 
put her head inside. Clive walked over and joined 
her out in the yard. She turned to him with 
worried eyes and melancholy face. 

“ Clive, I saw you coming in a while ago. There 
has been trouble again, hasn’t there? I saw men 
being carried into the bunkhouse and one of them, 


THE FIGHT IN THE PASS 


101 


I know, was dead. Ugh! It is horrible. If this 
must go on I think I shall carry out my original 
intention of leaving the Cottonwood Valley.” 

66 Miss Forest,” said Clive, soberly, 66 there was 
a fight in Saddleback Pass tonight, shore enough, 
and they killed pore old Wag Deering. But I 
reckon he’s a-looking’ down on us this minnit 
a-grinnin’ that slow grin of his on account of the 
bunch of snakes we sent to hell when we avenged 
him.” 

There were tears in Clive’s eyes, the tears of a 
strong man touched deeply, and impulsively Forest 
reached out and clasped his hands warmly within 
her own. 

66 I’m so sorry, Clive,” she whispered, her own 
eyes moist, “ but now that sorrow has touched you, 
has reached so closely home to you, don’t you think 
it better for us to stop than to continue fighting?” 

Still holding his hands, she waited for his reply. 
He winked rapidly several times, forcing the tears 
away. His voice was full and firm as he replied: 

66 Miss Forest, if that was my own brother 
layin’ in there ’stead of pore old Wag, I’d be just as 
daid set on wipin’ out them on-Godly skunks; his 
death don’t change things any, ’cept that there won’t 
be no mercy showed none of them yaller dawgs 
when we clashes ag’in. I reckon they found that out 
tonight in the pass. I don’t know how many we got, 
but if I was to guess, I’d say a-plenty. Yuh lost 
four good horses, I reckon, and most of them tinned 
things has got punctures that let the juice run out, 


102 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


but in the end all them losses will be cheap, for 
we’re a-goin’ to get yore ranch back and clean out 
every low-down whelp in this valley.” 

Next day a guard was maintained, but things 
remained peaceful and on the day following they 
held Wag’s funeral. Wag had never owned to a 
home so they made him a grave in the prettiest spot 
they could find, beneath a huge cottonwood and 
only a short distance from a spring that made that 
particular part of the ranch a veritable oasis. 
Forest read from a tiny Bible and they left Wag in 
his last peaceful sleep. 

As they walked back to the house, new lines had 
come into their faces and sorrow was heavy on 
their hearts. Even Forest found herself grimly 
hating those who were responsible for Deering’s 
death, and a slowly welling lust for battle was com¬ 
ing up in her heart. She found herself praying 
silently that Clive and his hard-riding companions 
would be able to wipe out the killers and rustlers 
who infested this valley of strife. 


CHAPTER VIII 
The Round-Up 

With eight men on the hospital list Clive decided 
that for the time being their activities would be 
confined to business near to and having to do with 
the immediate ranch. There was nothing to gain 
through courting trouble or in riding far in their 
present weakened state. He did not propose to 
take any unnecessary chances with his crippled 
force, valiant though he knew his comrades to be. 

Two-Gun Farrell was in favor of sending for 
additional men to strengthen them, hut Clive was 
not sure this was the proper thing to do. He de¬ 
cided finally that things should go on as they were 
for the time being, while, in the meantime, an effort 
would be made to round up Forest’s strayed cattle. 

Taking into consideration the huge numbers of 
steers that were grazing on the open range, this 
would be an enormous task, and one that would be 
worthy of ten times their number; but it had to be 
done, so he gave the necessary orders. For a week 
they were busy on the construction of a counting 
chute, then the actual work of round-up got under 
way. 

Blaze Ormsby, Jingle Jones and Lonesome re¬ 
mained at the ranch house, to care for the wounded 
and act as a guard. The others followed Clive and 
103 


104 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


set out to handle the task cut out for them as best 
they could. Thousands of steers were on the 
range, filling the great open spaces, and from these 
Forest’s animals had to be cut out and banded 
together and tallied. 

Day after day, from sunrise until dark, the work 
went on and after the first week a literal sea of 
tossing horns and waving tails had passed under 
their hands. By the end of the second week the 
riders had become lean of body and tanned of face 
and their eyes showed the strain of long hours in 
the saddle. Their ears ached from the constant 
thunder of bellowing steers and from the never- 
ending clump of thousands of hoofs. At the end 
of the third week they felt their work was nearing 
a successful conclusion. 

By this time Faro Latimer’s arm was healed and 
Milk River Ellis was back on his feet; also Silk 
Kingsbury, his face showing wicked scars on either 
cheek, was in the saddle again. Such are the heal¬ 
ing properties of the warm, dry Arizona air when it 
is backed by the robust constitutions of those who 
have spent their lives in open places. Bull Ellerby 
and Bing Summers, the two who had been most 
seriously wounded, were improved so much that 
they no longer lay in their bunks, but riding was 
still out of the question with them. 

Brick, Laramie and Wyoming Red would be 
available in another week and Clive was beginning 
to see daylight again, as he expressed it. All 
missed Wag Deering, and his name was frequently 


THE ROUND-UP 


105 


mentioned. At such times a tensing of faces and 
a frosty glinting of eyes told all beholders that 
Wag’s death was not forgotten, nor plans for 
further vengeance cast aside. 

The middle of the fourth week saw a score of 
riders cross the range and lope up to the great 
cattle herds, where the work of tallying and cutting 
out the Swinging J stock was drawing near an end. 
A lanky cowboy who introduced himself as Monte 
McCourt of the Lazy X, led the outfit. He asked 
Clive how the work was coming along. 

46 Fair to middlin’,” Clive answered. 66 1 reckon, 
though, another week or so will see us finished.” 

44 Findin’ many Lazy X cows, pard?” continued 
Monte. 

44 Quite a few, I reckon.” 

44 Yo’re tallyin’ ’em, ain’t yuh?” 

Clive glared resentfully. 

44 Say, Mr. Monte, what do yuh think we are? 
Yuh reckon we’re a-keepin’ tabs on all these cows 
for you hombres when yuh wouldn’t send no help 
over this-a-way after we put up them notices?” 

44 Well, hell’s bells, Morgan; yuh know damn’ 
well everybody at a round-up helps to tally the 
other feller’s stock, don’t yuh? We nacherally 
s’posed yuh was doin’ the same this time and I just 
rode over to git a leetle information. Our ranch 
is the last one in the valley as yuh go north, clear 
over ag’in the Moki-yones, and we’re a leetle short- 
handed. We thought yuh’d shore be accommo¬ 
datin’ enough to keep tabs for us.” 


106 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


46 Then yuh got another think comin.’ We be’n 
a-tallyin’ Swingin’ J cows and lettin’ the rest go as 
is.” 

46 1 never heard of a round-up bein’ conducted 
in no such damn’ fool way,” insisted Monte. 
44 Yuh orta know ezakly how many cows of each 
brand yuh’ve handled.” 

44 Listen here, McCourt, yuh got twenty men 
there; now, if you fellows want to pitch in and help 
us with the rest of these cows yo’re welcome and 
yuh can tally yore damn’ heads off, and yore 
fingers, too, but far as we’re concerned we ain’t 
tallyin’ nothin’ but our own animals, and that’s 
that. If yuh’d come at the start and some of them 
other outfits had sent men, this thing would’ve be’n 
over two weeks ago and yuh’d all know how many 
steers yuh got out here. As it is, I reckon yuh’ll 
have to stage a round-up of yore own, same as we 
did.” 

44 How’d we know yuh wasn’t goin’ to tally every¬ 
thin’?” cried Monte. 

Clive snorted. 

44 Yuh shore got yore nerve, I’d tell a man, 
’spectin’ us to do all the work while you hombres 
hung back and spent yore time a-figgerin’ how 
yuh could waylay more of our wagons or burn 
more of our buildin’s or turn more sheep on us. 
Hell of a way to do, is what I mean.” 

44 Now, look-a here, Morgan; they wasn’t none 
of the Lazy X in that shindig at the pass, and they 
wasn’t none of the Lazy X burned yore barn. I 


THE ROUND-UP 


107 


don’t reckon yuh ever saw any of this outfit mixed 
up in anythin’ that wasn’t strickley accordin’ to 
Hoyle, and I don’t like yore danged insinooations.” 

66 Yuh can like ’em or leave ’em alone, it don’t 
make no difference to me,” said Clive with finality, 
his eyes wary and sweeping over the riders who 
were assembled behind McCourt. The latter said: 

“ I reckon we ain’t a-goin’ to fight about it, Mor¬ 
gan, ’cause if muh bunch here ever mixed with yore 
gang, yuh would soon find yuh wasn’t fightin’ no 
such dang’ sheep chasers as them yuh met in the 
pass, I’m a-tellin’ yuh.” 

66 Interestin’, if true,” said Clive sarcastically, 
66 but I ain’t aimin’ for fight if you ain’t. Me, 
I’m plumb peaceable like as a rule, but when some 
pole-cat jumps me, they’s liable to be fireworks pop 
right sudden.” 

64 1 reckon,” said McCourt calmly, “ that yuh got 
the idee the Lazy X is mixed up with old Bender 
and Horner and them Square D bozos. Well, yuh 
can ree-vise yore opinion ’cause we’re a-tootin’ our 
own horns. I reckon we’ve had as many fights 
with them geezers as you have, and then some. 
That’s one reason we come over yere today. We 
thought maybe we could help yuh some, but since 
yuh ain’t be’n a-keepin’ no tallies ’cept on yore own 
stock, I reckon we’ll have to start the whole she¬ 
bang all over again.” 

Clive looked at Monte suspiciously. The latter 
was a clean looking, alert, clear-eyed man, under 
thirty-five and those who rode with him were happy- 


108 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


go-lucky, carefree-looking chaps who did not in the 
least give the impression that they would fight an 
underhanded war on a woman. But Clive was 
taking no chances; he could not afford to be lured 
into any false sense of security because a few range 
riders happened to look honest. He said: 

66 Well, if you geezers want to tally yore cows, I 
reckon yo’re welcome to start, far as we’re con¬ 
cerned. Yuh can start some tally-men right now 
and then go after them cows we’ve finished with. 
We’ll give yuh any help we can, now that yo’re 
here, and yo’re welcome to our countin’ pen. Our 
help might be considerable, at that, seein’ as we’re 
just about through tallyin’ the Swingin’ J stock, 
also seein’ as they ain’t many of our cows to count.” 

Monte turned in his saddle and raised his voice: 

“ Hey, Chuck, you and Digger and Frog and 
Sleepy come yere and range up on that tally plat¬ 
form and keep tab on all the Lazy X and Swingin’ 
J cows yuh see. The rest of you hombres stay with 
me.” He turned to Clive: 

66 It’s dang’ nigh onto thirty miles to our ranch 
and I reckon we got enough work here to make it 
worth while bringin’ a chuck-wagon over. If I 
leaves these four men here to count and help you 
fellers, too, will yuh give ’ em chuck till tomorrow? 
Two can help yuh ride herd tonight and we’ll be 
here with our whole outfit by ten bells, shore.” 

“ I reckon we can ’commodate yore men,” said 
Clive. 

At twilight he called a halt, leaving the custom- 


THE ROUND-UP 


109 


ary number of riders with the herd to await the 
coming of those who would stand watch during the 
night. Chuck and Digger had been designated by 
Monte as the ones who were to help night ride for 
the Lazy X, and Frog and Sleepy rode with the 
others to the Swinging J bunkhouse. They turned 
out to be genial, wholesome youths and very soon 
were on good terms with Clive and his riders. 

44 What I can’t understand,” said Shad to Sleepy 
as they rode along, 66 is why you birds didn’t show 
up three weeks ago and help us from the very start 
of things.” 

66 We wasn’t figgerin’ on pokin’ our noses into no 
range war, that’s why,” said Sleepy. 66 We was 
given the impression that about the time you fellers 
got things purty well in hand there would be a night 
raid and yore herds would be scattered and all 
mixed up ag’in. We knowed that would prob’ly 
mean a fight and we wasn’t goin’ to horn into some¬ 
thin’ we could just as easy stay out of.” 

Clive, who was riding with them, perked up his 
ears. 

“Where’d yuh get that idee, Sleepy?” he asked. 

46 Cain’t say,” the Lazy X rider rejoined. 44 It 
was the general impression we all got, though. I 
reckon it was from somethin’ a bunch of Bar T and 
Square D buzzards said when yuh first was stickin’ 
up them round-up notices.” 

44 They was plannin’ to stampede us, was they?” 
Clive mused. 44 Wonder what made ’em change 
their minds?” 


110 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


66 1 reckon they got word to call off the gun-play 
and use a leetle more of dee-plomacy,” Sleepy 
opined. 

Clive grunted. 

66 Now, what in hell do yuh mean by that?” he 
demanded. 

Frog, who had been riding with them, chimed in: 

64 They prob’ly figgered they was more ways of 
gittin’ you short-horns outa here than killin’ yuh,” 
he said. “Yuh don’t see them big geezers goin’ 
round a-shootin’ at each other, do yuh? And they 
round up all the dough, don’t they? Huh, them 
fellers uses dee-plomacy, yuh betcha. Well, I fig- 
ger, and so does the rest of our bunch, that them 
Chicawgo cow barons has passed the word that 
yo’re to be gently discouraged in yore noble en¬ 
deavors here, as it were, but that they’s to be no 
more gunnin’ for yuh.” 

66 Yuh talk like a law feller,” said Shad. 
64 What do yuh mean ’bout them Chicawgo cow 
barons?” 

44 That’s what I want to know,” said Clive. 

44 Didn’t anybody tell yuh they controls this 
valley?” asked Sleepy, surprise tinging his voice. 

44 How control it?” Clive wanted to know. 

44 Why, they owns seven of these yere valley 
ranches, I reckon, and what they says goes, too, yuh 
betcha. That’s why we ain’t be’n a-homin’ into 
things. We ain’t goin’ to fight no Chicawgo beef 
buyers and shut off our market, not if we knows 
what we’re a-doin, we ain’t. I reckon yore ranch, 


THE ROUND-UP 


111 


the Lazy X and the Circle C are the on’y ones 
in the Cottonwood that ain’t owned outright or con¬ 
trolled all the way through by them Chicawgo 
buzzards.” 

Clive whistled tunefully. Here was news in¬ 
deed. He questioned further: 

“ Who are the Chicawgo geezers yuh refers to, 
Sleepy?” 

Sleepy gazed at him pityingly. 

64 Ain’t yuh never heard of the Henley Cattle 
& Sales Company?” 

Clive started. The Henley people he knew, 
were a gigantic commission sales firm that did busi¬ 
ness all over the country, acting for any big pack¬ 
ing interest that would patronize it. They usually 
bought steers on the hoof at their point of origin, 
shipped them to Chicago and then turned them over 
to the big packers, charging a stated commission for 
their services. He did not know they were raising 
cattle on their own initiative, nor that they owned 
or controlled any ranches. 

44 1 knows of ’em, all right, but I thought they 
only acted as commission men.” 

44 That’s all they’re supposed to be doin,” Sleepy 
agreed, 44 but they must ’a’ be’n branchin’ out to 
beat the cards these last few years. I reckon if 
them big packers what patronizes ’em knowed what 
Henley was a-doin’ here in this valley they’d shut 
down on ’em dang’ quick.” 

44 Elucidate some more,” urged Clive. 

44 There ain’t much more I can tell,” Sleepy 


112 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


responded. 66 1 knows, though, or leastwise every¬ 
body in our outfit onderstands, that the Henley 
people have either bought, leased or taken options 
on every dang’ ranch in the Cottonwood ’ceptin’ 
the three we already mentioned. They are raisin’ 
their own cows and makin’ bigger profits that-a- 
way. They tried to gobble in the Lazy X, but old 
Simmons, who owns it, wouldn’t sell. Then they 
said they wouldn’t buy his cows and he went 
through a sorta range war, but finally started 
stickin’ to our own little bailiwick and the trouble 
finally stopped. But they never did buy no more 
of our cows. Old Simmons sends all his stock out 
through the north pass and up to the loadin’ pens 
on the Santy Fay, and now he’s shippin’ ’em direct 
on his own hook. He don’t make as much money 
by about five per cent, he says, but I reckon he’d 
rather make less quick cash and keep his ranch, 
at that.” 

“ That information shore puts a different face 
on things yereabouts,” said Clive seriously. 66 1 
be’n thinkin’ all the time that it was damn’ funny 
these buzzards here in the valley would raise so 
much hell over Miss Glade a-steppin’ in and raisin’ 
cows. So the Henley crowd is after her, hey? 
Now, I wonder if a leetle telygram to some of the 
big packers would help things?” 

66 None whatever,” said Frog. 66 Yuh couldn’t 
prove nothin’ ag’in the Henley firm. Old Sim¬ 
mons tried that and the biggest house in Chicawgo 
sent a agent down to the county seat at Sunset and 


THE ROUND-UP 


113 


he looked up records and deeds and mor’gages and 
such like, but they wasn’t nothin’ to indycate old 
Horner don’t own the Box 0, Jeb Griffs the Square 
D, and so on. But I betcha that old Henley hisself 
is holdin’ unrecorded deeds and leases and other 
agreements and such back there in his private 
strong boxes just the same. That agent come 
right here into this valley, too, and the old man 
gave him a earful; howsumever, a earful ain’t a 
eyeful and what them agents want is to be showed, 
that’s all. Every dang’ one of ’em was horned, 
raised and eddycated in Missoury, I reckon.” 

Clive scowled thoughtfully. 

64 Well,” he said, after a time, 46 I’m shore thank¬ 
ful if they are a-goin’ to ease up on the gun-play. 
Me, I’ve had enough to do me the rest of muh nach- 
eral horned days. But somebody’s a-goin’ to pay 
for killin’ pore old Wag Deerin’. I hope I finds 
out what buzzards fired the shots that killed ’im, 
that’s all.” 

The peace that had descended on the valley after 
the fight in the pass seemed destined to continue, 
and although there were no visible signs of conflict, 
Clive felt they were living in a state of false secur¬ 
ity. There was a tenseness in the air and mystery 
brooded over everything. 

Clive could now understand why strife filled the 
valley. If the Henley people were doing as Frog 
and Sleepy had said, it meant the firm was build¬ 
ing for its future, against the possibility of losing 
the trade of the big packers and, by controlling a 


114 THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 

goodly strip of the range, force business whether 
or no. 

Cottonwood Valley was a beautiful place, rich 
and fertile. Nowhere was the location more suit¬ 
able for cattle raising, and if the Henley company 
could acquire absolute control over it, they would 
have a range free from the menace of drouth and 
scarcity of feed. In times when the remainder of 
the Southwest suffered from these periodical calam¬ 
ities, Henley would be in a position to reap rich 
profits off the fat and healthy steers he would be 
able to supply for the ever growing markets in the 
east. 

Clive knew that in a battle for dollars and firm 
prestige an unscrupulous concern, with a dignified 
name and a successful eastern organization, could 
carry on shady transactions in a country like this, 
far removed from every place, and none might ever 
be the wiser. Arizona was a comparatively little 
known territory and fewer than one hundred and 
fifty thousand souls made up its entire population. 
The open spaces were many and far reaching; the 
law was coming, but its progress was slow and those 
appointed to represent it were not adequate in num¬ 
bers to safeguard the entire countryside as yet. 

The only way to fight the Henley crowd, there¬ 
fore, was with its own tactics. Fight fire with 
fire, was Clive’s motto, as he had demonstrated in 
the burning of the Box 0 barn. 

The round-up went along peaceably and in due 
time the Swinging J stock was cut out from the 


THE ROUND-UP 


115 


others, while the Lazy X riders had an accurate 
tally of their animals, also. Monte and his outfit 
had worked side by side with the Swinging J riders 
and Clive found that he was liking the elongated 
Monte more and more as time passed. The feeling 
between them was mutual, it seemed, for when the 
time came for the Lazy X riders to return to their 
ranch, Monte draw Clive to one side and said: 

“Listen, Tex; we got strick orders from Old 
Simmons to pull our leather at the first signs of 
trouble, but that don’t suit none of us hombres a 
leetle bit, ’specially since we’ve seen what yore she- 
male boss is up ag’in. Now, if them shad-bellied 
shotes starts anything more and yuh need help, just 
pass the word along, will yuh? We’ll come 
a-hootin’ if it means every damn’ one of us gits 
fired the next minnit. What say, cowboy?” 

“ I say thanks, pard, and many of ’em,” said 
Clive, touched visibly and pumping the other’s 
horny fist. “ Yuh can bet yore best Sunday pants 
that if we run into any trouble we can’t handle all 
by our lonesome, we’ll shore shoot a rider hot on 
yore trail.” 

The round-up had revealed that Forest had six¬ 
teen hundred steers remaining. Originally she 
had owned thirty-six hundred, which meant that 
two thousand of her animals had been stolen or 
otherwise disposed of. She had calculated roughly 
that five hundred had died at the poisoned water 
holes, but even so, there were fifteen hundred or 
more that must be accounted for otherwise and 


116 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Clive intended that an accounting should be had, 
but just how or when he could not say. 

By now the wounded men had recovered and 
were back in the saddle. The long, hot Arizona 
summer came on full blast and had it not been 
for the ever-flowing stream of Cougar Creek the 
valley grass would have dried out and burned away 
before July was fairly under way. The elaborate 
irrigation system of the valley, however, effectually 
did away with any danger of this sort, and while the 
territory in other sections was reporting the driest 
ranges in ten years, Cottonwood Valley bloomed 
and throve and its cattle waxed fat and contented. 

And so the summer passed and September came 
on, fully as hot as July. All had grown into a 
perpetually cheerful frame of mind and danger 
seemed more remote than at any time since they 
had come to the Swinging J. Only the memory 
of Wag Deering marred their happiness. 

Under Clive’s never-tiring efforts, a line fence 
had been run the entire length of the ranch from the 
western end of the valley to the Diamond L, and 
Forest’s cattle were kept as closely as possible on 
her own lands at all times. But a huge section was 
still without fence to the south and it was this that 
resulted in their next trouble, a catastrophe that 
threatened them more direfully than anything that 
had gone before. 


CHAPTER IX 
Sheep! 

The first hint that some new deviltry was in the 
air came to Clive one day when he and Forest were 
riding across the range. Both had been eyeing the 
vast herds grazing there and both sought to account 
for an intangible something that seemed different. 
Finally, Clive got it and pinching out the hot end of 
a cigarette before tossing it away, he turned to the 
girl and said: 

64 Miss Forest, I wonder if yuh see what I see?” 

44 1 rather imagine I do, Clive,” she replied. 
44 The herds are smaller, as though large numbers 
had been pulled off the range.” 

44 Ezackly,” he answered. 44 There ain’t much 
more ’n half as many steers out here as there was 
a month ago. I wonder what’s up now?” 

44 Perhaps they have sold off some of the stock,” 
she suggested. 

Clive shook his head. 

44 Nope, I don’t reckon that’s it. Just because 
we got nice weather here and all that don’t mean 
the folks back east and up north ain’t a-ketchin’ 
it right now from Old Man Blizzard, and winter’s 
the porest time of year to sell steers to the eastern 
packers, ’cause yuh can’t ship with no degree of 
success. The markets right now ain’t one-two with 
117 


118 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


what they’ll be next spring. 1 reckon this means 
they’re a-schemin’ up somethin’ new.” 

“ At any rate,” she said, 66 they can’t do us any 
harm by withdrawing their herds from the range.” 

66 But it ain’t natural, Miss Forest, for ’em to do 
so. Most of them ranches has got too many cows 
on ’em now for proper feedin,’ and I don’t reckon 
they’d be puttin’ all this surplus under fence ’thout 
they had somethin’ onery in mind. Danged if they 
didn’t get plumb away with a round-up ’thout us 
gettin’ any wind of it, too.” 

A week later Clive, Shad, Bull Ellerby and 
Honey Malloy rode across the range and Clive was 
struck by the further depreciation in the grazing 
herds. They spent the better part of the day rid¬ 
ing throught the steers and they kept watchful eyes 
on the various brands they saw. As they turned 
homeward late in the afternoon Bull voiced a 
thought that was in the mind of each: 

66 The only cows left out there, it ’pears to me, 
is Swingin’ J, Circle C and Lazy X. I wonder 
what’s become of all them other brands?” 

“ We’ll see if we can find out tomorra,” said 
Clive. 

The following day they rode through the valley. 
The Box 0 ranch was the first to the north along 
the highway and they chose it for their initial in¬ 
vestigation. They found the undulating acres of 
Jeb Horner’s place dotted thickly with grazing 
herds, too thickly for economy or best range feed¬ 
ing. At the Dollar M, the Square D, and the 


SHEEP 


119 


M-Bar-T the same conditions prevailed. Swing¬ 
ing back across the range they circled and passed 
the line fence of the Diamond L, riding along it for 
miles. Like the other ranches, the Diamond L 
acres were over-populated with steers. 

Clive scratched his head, a puzzled expression on 
his face. 

“Now, what do yuh s’pose them buzzards is 
up to?” he queried plaintively. “ ’Tain’t nacheral 
for them to put so dang’ many cows under fence, 
so’t ain’t, and they shore as hell are hatchin’ up 
somethin’, else they wouldn’t be a-doin’ it, either.” 

Next day he sent Two-Gun, Pink Sellers and 
Jingle Jones to the Lazy X to ascertain if word of 
the changed range conditions had reached old Sim¬ 
mons, while, unaccompanied, he rode to the Circle 
C with the avowed intention of questioning Bud 
Hart, its owner. As he came to the intersection of 
Hart’s ranch with the Swinging J and Bender’s 
place he saw that the latter, too, was swarming 
with cattle. Setting his teeth on the puzzle and 
scenting a brooding menace in the very air, he 
swung into the road that led to the Circle C ranch 
yard. 

He found Bud Hart at the corral, doctoring a 
horse that had fallen and sprained its leg. He 
had met Bud on two or three previous occasions, 
but did not know exactly how to take him. Bud 
had been taciturn and evasive; also, a little mys¬ 
terious. Clive was not sure how much he could 
say in the man’s presence, or how little. 


120 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


“ Howdy, Hart,” he said, swinging easily from 
his saddle and approaching to where the cattleman 
had just finished applying a strong liniment to the 
injured animal’s leg. 

46 Same to you, Morgan,” rejoined Hart. 

66 How’s tricks?” Clive continued. 

46 This durned hoss stepped in a pin-dog hole 
and sprained his leg. I reckon everything else is 
all right. Why?” 

44 Yuh be’n over on the range lately?” 

44 Nope,” Bud answered, shaking his head. 
“Can’t say as I have. I don’t usually pull muh cows 
off there till later, and as it ’pears we’re a-goin’ 
to have plenty of range grass right through the win¬ 
ter this year, I was a-figgerin’ that mebbe I’d leave 
’em right where they are till spring; then mebbe 
I’ll sell a bunch. Why?” 

44 Well,” said Clive, rolling a cigarette, 44 1 be’n 
out there a couple of times recently and I see yore 
cows, ours and old Simmons’ is the only ones left 
in the lush-grass. Everybody else has pulled stock 
and put ’em under fence. See anything queer 
about that?” 

Hart scratched his head with a tentative finger, 
then joined Clive in rolling and lighting a brown- 
paper cigarette. 

44 1 reckon it does seem sorta queer,” he said 
finally. 44 All them other outfits has got their stock 
under fence, hey? Why?” 

44 For cripe’s sake,” rasped Clive, “quit askin’ 
me why every time yuh open yore mouth. How’d 


SHEEP 


121 


I know what’s up? If I knowed I wouldn’t be here. 
I come over to see if you knowed why yorese’f.” 

“ Well,” said Hart, “ I don’t know why they’ve 
yanked their steers, but if they have, then I reckon 
it’s time for me to pull mine, too. Nothin’ like 
playin’ safe, is they? And while yo’re about it, 
yuh’d better yank yore’n off the range, too. If it 
ain’t good for them other bozos, I don’t reckon it’s 
good for my stock to hang ’round out there either.” 

Clive left the Circle C as puzzled as ever and 
late in the afternoon, when Two-Gun, Pink and 
Jingle returned from the Lazy X, he was no nearer 
a solution as to what was going on under cover 
than he had been when first he noticed the dwind¬ 
ling range herds. Monte McCourt, Sleepy and 
Fog accompanied the Swinging J riders back to the 
ranch and Monte, swinging lightly from his sad¬ 
dle, said: 

66 Say, Tex, I come over to see how about yuh 
rentin’ us some of yore pasture.” 

66 Meanin’ what?” as Clive. 

46 Well, yuh see, soon as old Simmons heard 
them birds was yankin’ their stock from the range, 
he said they was up to some devilment and that he 
don’t want to be caught with his guns a-hangin’ 
on a nail, so’s to speak. He says yuh got plenty of 
grazin’ land over yere, ’specially since yore herds 
has slumped to on’y sixteen hundr’d cows, and 
he wants to pull his stock off the range. He says for 
me to larn if yuh’ll let his animals run with yores 
ontil he can make room on the Lazy X for ’em. 


122 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


He ain’t got no room just now, ’thout he does like 
them other fellers and makes his feedin’ ground 
too skeerce to take care of all his stock properly. 
’Course, he’ll pay yuh for the ’commodation.” 

66 1 reckon we can take care of yuh, all right,” 
Clive said. 64 Yuh can arrange with Miss Forest 
about the pay. I see Bud Hart is a-goin’ to pull 
his stock back to the Circle C, too, so I s’pose if 
that’s the way the rest of you hombres look at it, 
then we might as well get them Swingin’ J steers 
back here in their own yard, too.” 

44 Well, that’s that,” said Monte, relief in his 
voice. 44 Frog, you ride back to the ranch and 
tell the old man Tex says everything’s 0. K., and 
to send along them riders. Me and Sleepy’ll stay 
here and start gettin’ our cows over this-a-way. 
Now, fog along, old timer, ’cause it’ll be late ’fore 
yuh git there as it is.” 

Frog waited only for supper, then spurred off 
toward the Lazy X. Monte and Sleepy found 
places in the bunkhouse and made themselves at 
home, glad to be back again with the genial riders 
of the Swinging J. Next day the work of driving 
the stock in from the open range got under way. 

Simmons sent ten riders to handle his drive 
while Bud Hart had his entire force of fifteen men 
on the job. Clive, having by far the smaller num¬ 
ber to handle, used only six men. Essentially, a 
new round-up was staged, for it was necessary to 
cut out the Circle C stock from the others. Clive 
still wondered how he had missed the other and 


SHEEP 


123 


larger round-up that must have been staged when 
the valley ranchers pulled their stock and put it 
under fence. 

By nightfall the first drive of Swinging J and 
Lazy X cattle was back at the ranch, while a great 
drove of Circle C steers was shunted across the tip 
of Forest’s property and driven down to Bud Hart’s 
rolling acres. Night riders took up their lonely 
vigils, watching that none of the steers so far 
rounded up should wander back to the range. 

Next day further inroads were made into the 
grazing flocks on the range and Clive sensed that 
a few more days of the same intensive effort would 
see all three ranches with their stock under fence, 
when the range would be deserted save for an occa¬ 
sional coyote, long-eared jack-rabbit or fleet pin- 
dog that might choose to scurry across the scenery. 

Life at the Swinging J was now divided into 
two phases, one portion of the men toiling and play¬ 
ing at night, the other portion during the long, 
warm days. Unless the Swinging J and Lazy X 
cattle were driven to the fenced-in portion of the 
ranch it would be necessary to maintain a force 
of night riders and it would be necessary to ob¬ 
serve this routine for whatever length of time they 
kept the stock off the range. If the time should 
come when they would be compelled to use the 
fenced-in acres, then the Lazy X cattle would have 
to go, for there was not enough grass under fence 
for both herds, although Forest’s own stock could 
graze indefinitely behind the barbed wire. 


124 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


A week later, when only a few cattle remained 
on the range, the midnight repose of the bunkhouse 
was disturbed by a clatter of hoofs in the yard and 
Clive tumbled out, rubbing his eyes, to ascertain 
who the rider might be. Men scrambled out with 
him, dressing hurriedly. 

Sled Fogarty, a rider for the Circle C, was out¬ 
side, sitting on a horse, and he hailed Clive as the 
Swinging J outfit exited from the bunkhouse in a 
mad rush to see who would be the first outside. 
He called: 

66 Hart sent me over to tell yuh that yuh could 
find out what all them cows was pulled off the range 
for, if yuh want to take a leetle passear over toward 
Saddleback Pass.” 

66 What’s up?” asked Clive. 

66 Well, you hombres yank on yore chaps and 
grab yore ponies. Foller me and yuh’ll see the 
grandest leetle bunch of woolies percolatin’ from 
the pass yuh ever laid yore two eyes on.” 

66 Sheep!” exclaimed Clive, incredulously. 

66 Yeh, sheep,” answered Sled. 64 They started 
cornin’ from the pass over two hours ago and I 
reckon they’re still dribblin’ through. Lord knows 
how many they is, but by cripes, there must be a 
reg’lar army of ’em. They got shepherds what 
carry rifles, too, and they rides hosses,” he added. 

44 Jingle,” said Clive, 44 you go to the house and 
call Miss Forest. Tell ’er what’s up and ask her if 
she wants to come with us. We’re a-goin’ down 
and investigate these woolies. I reckon there’s no 


SHEEP 


125 


law to keep ’em out of here; leastwise, not so long 
as they don’t get on private property. They shore 
will make a hell of a place of the range in jig time, 
yuh betcha, and we ain’t got quite all of them cows 
off ’n there yet, either.” 

By this time the bunkhouse had emptied and the 
men were saddling ponies. Clive led out Thunder 
while Ormsby saddled two horses, one for himself, 
the other for Forest. She appeared, wearing a trig 
divided skirt and high boots, and swung at once into 
the saddle, joining Clive and Sled. 

64 All ready, fellers,” Clive cried, and led the 
way. The party left the ranch with a rush. Down 
the road they sped. 

44 1 reckon they’ll be drivin’ them sheep along 
this-a-way purty soon, Miss Forest,” Clive said to 
the girl, 44 and if they do they want to be dang’ 
shore none of them woolies gets on our property. 
If they do, then they’ll be trespassin’ and we’ll have 
a right to shoot the dirty critters.” 

44 Hunh,” exclaimed Sled. 44 If they was a-goin’ 
to bring ’em up this road they’d be farther ’n this 
by now. Nope, they’re a-shuntin’ ’em off across 
old Bender’s place, round the back way, and they’ll 
cut across to the range by usin’ a piece of the Dia¬ 
mond L, I reckon. They ain’t a-comin’ this-a- 
way, that’s sartin.” 

They sped onward, passing the intersection of 
the Swinging J, Circle C and Bender’s ranches. 
Down where the road stalked out of the high ground 
of the Saddleback, they came on the sheep, thou- 


126 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


sands and thousands of them, piling pell-mell down 
the steep declivity, plaintive 66 ha-a-as ” and click¬ 
ing teeth keeping time to the sharp, metallic clatter 
of tiny hoofs on the hard surface of the ground. A 
cloud of dust hung in the air and the pungent, 
unforgetable smell of dirty wool assailed them. 

Six men, each holding a rifle, sat in the road . 
astride horses. They were shunting the animals 
off to the right, across Bender’s ranch, and keeping 
them from plunging straight ahead down the road. 
The Swinging J riders advanced and joined the 
rifle-bearers. One of these turned toward Clive, 
a question on his lips, rifle held significantly in the 
hollow of his arm. 

“Well?” he ejaculated. 

“ I reckon I am,” said Clive. “ Them yore 
sheep?” 

“ Who wants to know?” came the insolent re¬ 
joinder. 

Clive’s eyes narrowed and he rode a step closer 
to the other, who immediately swung up his rifle 
and bared his teeth in a meaning grimace. 

“ Yo’re close enough, mister,” he warned. “ I 
can talk just as well if yuh don’t crowd me. What 
do yuh want?” 

“ Damn yore gun and yore orders,” said Clive, 
his voice warming and his blood rising. “ I asked 
yuh if these was yore sheep.” 

“ Oh,” said the other, his voice still insolent. 

“ I reckon I didn’t understand yuh the first time. 
Nope, they ain’t mine.” 


SHEEP 


127 


46 The owner here?” Clive persisted. 

44 1 can’t say.” 

44 Who’s in charge, then?” Clive was fighting to 
hold his temper. 

44 1 reckon Cougar Evans and Coldwater Sharp 
are bossin’ this herd, Mister. Do yuh want to talk 
with ’em?” 

Clive started. Cougar and Coldwater were two 
professional gunmen who sold their services to the 
highest bidder. They had once ranged the Rio 
Pecos country in Texas until the Rangers had 
finally camped on their trail and driven them out. 
They were scoundrels without conscience and it 
was hard to tell what they might do once they got 
started. The other noticed Clive’s quick start. 

44 Heard of ’em, have yuh? Well, then yuh 
won’t be startin’ something yuh can’t finish, 
mebbe.” 

44 Yeh, I’ve heard of ’em,” Clive answered, 
choosing his words carefully, 44 and I can tell yuh 
right now, Mister, that yo’re a-workin’ for a rattle¬ 
snake and a buzzard. They’re two of the onriest, 
onreliable critters the Lord ever let breathe, and 
yuh can tell ’em I said so if yuh want.” 

44 Not wishin’ to see you absorb any lead sort of 
helpless like,” sarcastically rejoined the herder, 
44 I’ll not tell ’em. It wouldn’t be healthy for yuh 
if the Cougar and Coldwater started on yore trail.” 

Two-Gun Farrell, who had been listening quietly, 
spoke up: 

44 Then I’ll give yuh a message for ’em, hombre; 


128 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


you tell them damn’ pole-cats that yo’re a-workin’ 
for that any time they want to start anythin’ they 
better recall a leetle epysode that happened ’bout 
two year ago in Los Pinos, over on the Rio Grande; 
you tell ’em to remember the geezer that chased ’em 
both to the woods hell-bent, and after yuh tell ’em 
that just add Two-Gun Farrell sent the word and is 
on the job here; say they better watch that they 
keep their ropes from draggin’, too. Think yuh 
can remember to tell ’em all that?” 

The other’s face, clear and sharp in the brilliant 
moonlight, whitened visibly. There was a differ¬ 
ent tone to his voice and a different air to his words 
when he answered Two-Gun. 

66 So you are Two-Gun Farrell? Well, I don’t 
know as we expected to find you here, but at that 
yuh can deliver yore own message to Cougar and 
Coldwater. I’m not interested whatever. Me, I’m 
herdin’ sheep, and I don’t want you fellers to get 
any other impression about me. Sabe?” 

66 Oh, hell, Two-Gun; he’s just like all other 
sheep herders — he’s got water in his craw. He 
was purty big till he found out he was buckin’ Two- 
Gun Farrell, then all the wind went out of his 
sails.” Clive turned disgustedly to the herder once 
more. 

“ Where are Evans and Coldwater?” 

“ I can’t say, cowboy, but far as yo’re concerned 
I wouldn’t advise yuh to go huntin’ them, unless 
yo’re peaceably inclined. It might not be good 
for yore health.” 


SHEEP 


129 


Clive’s exasperation temporarily got the better of 
him. He leaned in his saddle and extended his 
long, muscular arm toward the other, snapping his 
fingers beneath the man’s nose with a pop like the 
crack of a whip. 

66 Listen to me, yuh dodderin’ doodle-bug; don’t 
yuh worry none on account of muh health. I’m 
feelin’ fine and I aim to keep right on feelin’ that-a- 
way. That’s the second time yuh hinted that some¬ 
thin’ might impair muh health and I want to tell 
yuh right now that if anybody in yore bunch of 
mavericks thinks he can injure or change muh pres¬ 
ent state of well-bein’ yuh can tell ’im to come- 
a-runnin’, that’s all.” 

While they talked a seemingly never ending 
stream of dirty white had been erupting from the 
pass and spewing out across Bender’s ranch. Clive 
saw that the wire fence had been taken down for a 
distance of perhaps three hundred yards. He 
sensed, thereat, that this was all part of a pre¬ 
conceived plan and that old Bender was mixed 
up in it from the start. He turned to Honey 
Malloy and Shad Stevens. 

66 You fellers ride out to where the herds is and 
tell the boys these sheep is a-comin’ and that if any 
of ’em so much as steps a foot on our ranch or nib¬ 
bles a single Swingin’ J blade of grass, to shoot it 
and do it damn’ pronto ” he ordered. 

A herder who had listened silently to the dis¬ 
course up to this time chimed in. 

“ Say, Mister, I don’t know yuh nor nothin’ 


130 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


about yuh, but we’re goin’ to take these sheep onto 
open range down here in the valley, I’m told, and 
it won’t be good for anybody that tries to shoot any 
of our stock. I ain’t aimin’ to start any trouble, 
but a friendly warnin’ in advance, mebbe, will save 
a lot of future trouble.” 

Clive turned toward the speaker, noting that his 
rifle was thrust in a boot attached to his saddle and 
that he carried a revolver slung at either hip, their 
hand-grips bared for quick use. His hands were 
smooth and white in the moonlight; his fingers long 
and supple looking. Without doubt he was a gun¬ 
man, a two-gunman and one who was here to ply 
his profession at the behest of those who had sent in 
the sheep. Clive’s hand lowered until it swung 
over the butt of his .45 and he spoke with a razor- 
edged voice when he answered: 

44 If any warnin’s is needed ’round here, Mister 
Sheepherder, I’ll give ’em, not you. Now, what I 
said about shootin’ them woolies goes as she lays 
and if a damn’ dirty one of ’em sets a foot on 
Swingin’ J ground, it gets killed instanter. If yuh 
don’t like muh words, reach for yore guns.” 

The other laughed insolently, his eyes cold and 
steady. 

66 Bozo,” he said evenly, 46 if I ever goes for muh 
guns, yuh want to go for the tall uncut as fast as 
the Lord’ll let yuh. I ain’t never dragged muh 
guns yet and left anybody to tell about it after¬ 
ward, ’cept muhse’f.” 


SHEEP 131 

44 You tell ’im, Streak,” said another herder, 
ranging to one side. 

44 1 ain’t a-worryin’ none,” said Clive coolly, his 
eyes wary of the other’s hands. 

The gunman laughed softly. 

44 Yuh do seem purty cool,” he admitted, 44 but I 
reckon yo’re a wind-bag that talks a lot and don’t 
say much; and as for that friend of yores, Mister 
Two-Gun Farrell, tell him any time he wants to pull 
them fancy little playthings he’s a-wearin’, I’m 
waitin’ to oblige.” 

He said it purposely for Two-Gun to hear and 
the latter, turning his head slightly, saw that the 
herder’s hands hovered near his guns. Two-Gun’s 
face was unperturbed, but his hands moved sud¬ 
denly. No one saw how or when, but they moved, 
and twin reports split the air and two tiny flashes of 
light gleamed pale and cold in the flood of the 
golden moon. 

Streak’s hat lifted from his head and settled in 
the road, two holes in the crown. Streak himself 
looked into the muzzles of Two-Gun’s six-shooters. 

He thrust his own half-drawn weapons back into 
their holsters, a sneer on his lips. He looked at 
Two-Gun coolly, without hint of fear. 

44 You win, Farrell,” he said shortly, 44 this 
time. Next time, I’ll be watchin’ yuh.” 

Thus, he passed over the incident, implying he 
had not been looking when Two-Gun drew. But 
Clive and a few others knew better; knew that 


132 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Streak’s eyes had been on Farrell every split sec¬ 
ond and that it was Two-Gun’s superhuman speed 
that had been too much for the man. Farrell 
laughed, a slow, derisive outburst that brought a 
flush to Streak’s face. 


CHAPTER X 
The Line Riders 

Forest took a hand in the proceedings. 

“ Gentlemen, I think it is hardly necessary for 
you to quarrel before you really have anything 
to quarrel about. Mr. Farrell, please don’t anger 
the man further. Clive, can’t we avoid trouble for 
the present?” 

Two-Gun bowed silently, but kept wary eyes on 
the man called Streak. Clive ranged his horse 
near Forest’s. No further controversy ensued and 
for an hour they sat quietly, watching the sheep 
belch out of the pass and “ba-a-a” their way across 
the Bender line and onto his acres. Before the 
last animal had left the pass the first salmon-pink 
sliver of dawn had stabbed the sky high over the 
mountains toward the east and day was coming on 
apace. 

Behind the last of the sheep were more riders, 
a dozen or more, each with a rifle. They rode 
stolidly and silently, eyes on the sheep and paying 
no attention to what went on around them. The 
last dirty white animal left the pass and turned onto 
the Bender ranch and the six who had closed the 
road against them turned and followed. Clive saw 
several of Bender’s riders approach, bearing wire 
and posts. They were going to repair the fence. 

“ We may as well vamoose ” he told the others. 

133 


134 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


“ Nothin’ we can do here. All them woolies is in 
the valley now and I reckon the first of ’em is well 
across the Diamond L and headed for the open 
range by this time. Seems to me our troubles is 
goin’ to shift back to that range. Hell’s bells, I 
wish somebody had taken over all that ground and 
made a ranch or two ranches out of it.” 

As they passed the Circle C on their road back to 
the Swinging J, Sled Fogarty turned aside. 

“Hey, Tex,” he called, “it ain’t none of my horn 
in, but if yuh find yorese’f needin’ another man or 
two, I’d plumb be admirin’ to ride for yore outfit.” 

“ Thanks, Sled; I’ll let yuh know,” said Clive, 
riding thoughtfully ahead. 

Back at the ranch, Monte McCourt declared: 

“ Well, yuh buckaroos, this means a line-ridin’ 
job from now on, and while I reckon that’s just as 
easy as ridin’ herd, it means we got to have more 
help from the Lazy X. Frog, you scoot over and 
tell old Simmons how things are a-stackin’ up, and 
tell him I want at least six more men down this-a- 
way.” 

Spud Garrett, who had been night riding, came 
in, the others of his shift with him. Shad had 
apprised them of the coming of the sheep, but they 
reported the animals had not yet reached the range. 
Most of the riders were for going forth at once, 
meeting sheep and herders and shooting it out with 
the riflemen. But Clive set his foot on that idea. 

“ We ain’t doin’ no shootin’ ’thout we have to,” 
he said. “ Them sheep has a legal right on the 


THE LINE RIDERS 


135 


range, even if their moral right is a damn’ skinny 
one. We can only get busy if they happen to 
wander onto our property. You fellers go git yore 
breakfasts and turn in, ’cause there’s goin to be 
line-ridin’ from now on, and yuh won’t get a chance 
to set out there and sing to them cows no more. 
The rest of us is goin’ out today and finish bringin’ 
our stock onto the ranch.” 

By the time Clive and his party reached the 
range the sheep had arrived. In great, billowing 
clouds they spread across all the free grass-land on 
both sides of Cougar Creek, from Bender’s and the 
Diamond L, north to the Box 0 fences. 

Two-Gun Farrell spurred among the sheep with 
reckless abandon, caring not a whit that his horse’s 
hoofs played havoc in the ranks of the wooly ani¬ 
mals. He was bitter against all sheep and espe¬ 
cially bitter against the three head men who were 
bossing these—Cougar Evans, Coldwater Sharp 
and the man called Streak. Two-Gun, in a word, 
was spoiling for trouble and went out of his way 
as much as he could in order to start something. 

But the sheepmen for the time being seemed to 
be operating under peace orders. None swallowed 
Two-Gun’s bait, and when an occasional wooly 
bleated out its life beneath the horse the fiery Two- 
Gun rode, the shepherds said nothing, merely 
watching silently and waiting. Toward evening 
the last of the cattle were sorted from among the 
sheep and the drive was sent across to Swinging J 
property. 


136 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


That night there was a fresh division of forces. 
Simmons not only had heeded Monte’s request for 
six additional men, but had sent ten, and Frog, who 
fetched them, addressed McCourt in a voice that all 
could hear: 

46 And Simmons says to do as yuh dang’ please, 
Monte, about runnin’ his end of things and backin’ 
up any play Tex makes. He says he’s gittin’ ’bout 
as tired as the next one of all this damn’ shindig, 
and that he opines it might as well end in a grand 
jamboree as not, if them dawgs of sheepmen start 
anythin’.” 

Whereupon Monte chuckled. 

“Well, we shore ain’t goin’ to carry no bunches 
of roses out there to them hombres he said. 44 If 
they want to have a leetle fannin’ bee with six-guns, 
we’ll shore be on the job to accommodate ’em.” 

64 We got eight miles of line to ride,” Clive 
declared. 44 Monte, you split yore men in two 
squads; I’m a-doin’ the same with mine, and the 
first galoot that spots a wooly over our line has 
orders to let ’im have it dead center. If any of 
them shepherds try to start anythin’ as a result, I 
guess yuh all know what yo’re to do, only, for 
cripe’s sake, watch out for them rifles.” 

With the addition of the Lazy X hands, Clive 
now had under his command a total of forty-five 
hard-riding souls, every man equal to any occasion 
that might arise. Since the night trick had become 
a necessity, Clive apportioned off twenty men, 
under Shad Stevens, and gave them orders to patrol 


THE LINE RIDERS 


137 


the entire eight miles of unfenced land that sepa¬ 
rated Forest’s ranch from the open range. Under 
this arrangement each man would have a little less 
than a half-mile of line to guard, and Clive felt this 
would be adequate protection. 

Monte appointed Sleepy as the nominal night 
head of his share of the night force, to act under 
Shad. Later, Clive and Monte rode out along the 
line and watched the riders take their appointed 
stations, but before they had gone their various 
ways, Clive said: 

“ If anything goes wrong, pass the word by re¬ 
lays. Chick, yo’re goin’ the farthest out. If yuh 
need help, or yuh got anything important on yore 
mind, shoot yore six-gun three times quick. Next 
man hears it and repeats the performance and next 
man the same. Sabe? In less ’n a minute word 
can reach us at the bunkhouse that-a-way. Now, 
cowboys, do yore damnedest.” 

The nearest sheep were not more than a quarter- 
mile distant and, knowing their penchant to wander 
while they grazed, Clive knew it would require 
alert eyes and constant vigilance on the part of his 
own men and the sheep herders, too, if the animals 
were held from Swinging J property. But what 
puzzled him greatly was the ultimate objective of 
bringing the sheep into the valley. 

There were fully twenty thousand of them and a 
great body of sheep such as that would make short 
shrift of the range grass, after which they would 
require new feeding grounds. Aside from this 


} 

138 THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 

range there were no other grounds in the valley- 
open for this purpose, and only in the distant moun¬ 
tains, where the vegetation was scarce, but sufficient 
to sustain the sheep as they passed through, could 
feed be found when the range was clipped bare 
and the grass trampled deep under the dirt. 

By travelling fast and grazing as they moved, 
the sheep could maintain themselves indefinitely 
through the mountains, but it would be fatal to 
them to be caught for any length of time here in 
the valley with the range no longer offering them 
substance wherewith to feed. 

Clive mentioned his thoughts to the others, but 
none was any nearer an explanation than Clive him¬ 
self. As nearly as any one arrived at a conclusion 
was Blaze Ormsby, who declared: 

66 Perhaps our friends the ranchers brought the 
sheep in, Clive. If so, they plan merely to clean up 
the range and when that is done, they probably will 
order the woolies returned whence they came. 
Somehow, though, that isn’t exactly logical, for they 
would be doing themselves more actual harm than 
they could possibly do to us; so there must be 
something else behind the move.” 

66 That’s what I think, but dang muh hide if I can 
place muh finger on what’s wrong,” Clive answered. 

Next morning when the night riders came in 
from the posts they had vacated in favor of the 
day line riders, Shad reported that things had been 
quiet. And the day proved equally so. The second 
day and night also were peaceful, but on the third 




THE LINE RIDERS 


139 


night, around two o’clock in the morning, the 
drumming of hoofs entering the ranch yard roused 
the bunkhouse and the men tumbled out to greet 
Chick Purdy, who entered with blood streaming 
from his left wrist. 

66 A rifle got me, I reckon,” he said briefly. “ I 
was ridin’ quiet like and not thinkin’ much ’bout 
anythin’ when I heard a rifle shot and felt muh 
arm go dead like I’d been kicked by a mule. I 
knowed right away I’d be’n shot, but it didn’t seem 
serious enough to call you fellers out, so I told 
Shad about it and rode on in. Shad said he was 
a-goin’ to plow down on that sheep camp and that 
if he found out that there was a dirty rifle-barrel in 
the place, he was a-goin’ to let daylight through 
the hombre that owned it.” 

Clive climbed into his clothes rapidly, Two-Gun 
doing likewise. Blaze was attending Chick’s arm, 
which had been furrowed by a bullet, and said the 
wound was nothing to worry about. 

“Mebbe it ain’t,” said Clive, 66 but them hombres 
wasn’t shootin’ at Chick’s arm, I reckon. They was 
aimin’ for his haid and just nacherally couldn’t 
shoot straight by moonlight. I’m a-goin’ out and 
join Shad and Two-Gun’s a-goin’ with me. If 
Shad’s found a rifle that’s dirty, I reckon some¬ 
body’s due to get his conch busted wide open in 
pretty quick time.” 

With Two-Gun at his side, he spurred off in the 
night, lit by a brilliant moon, and almost as light 
as day. They found the line deserted and four 


140 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


miles from the bunkhouse saw sheep drifting across 
Swinging J grass. Clive looked at them grimly. 

66 1 reckon I orta brought some of the boys, after 
all,” he opined. 66 Well, we can’t change our plans 
now. Come on, Two-Gun, I reckon the sheep 
camp’s over this-a-way somewhere.” 

For an hour they rode along. It was nearly four 
o’clock by Clive’s watch and already the sky was 
getting light in the east. Plowing recklessly among 
the sheep, Two-Gun taking special pains to rout 
the animals with his horse’s hoofs, they finally 
rode up to the sheep camp, a cluster of dirty tents 
beside an irrigation ditch. They found Shad and 
the eighteen punchers under him carrying on a 
heated discussion with a short, slender man with 
grizzled hair and a wrinkled visage. 

Shad called a welcome to Clive. 

“ Come here, Tex, and talk to this buzzard. 
He’s be’n entertainin’ me for a hour, but I reckon 
I can’t make ’im understand plain American lan- 
gwidge. You try it, and see if yuh can do any 
better. He says he’s Joe Moore, in charge of these 
sheep; I insists he’s Joe Moore, a dang’ pole-cat, 
but he won’t get riled enough to start somethin’. 
Hell, sheepherders ain’t got no guts a-tall.” Shad 
spat disgustedly. 

“ Yuh find that gun, Shad?” Clive asked, riding 
close. 

“ Say, yuh might as well hunt for the devil’s left 
eyebrow in a huckleberry bush as to try to find 
that gun around here. First place, they say all 


THE LINE RIDERS 


141 


their guns is dirty and, second place, they won’t 
let me see any of ’em.” 

Then Clive noticed a line of men standing 
silently back among the tents, rifles in hand. In 
their forefront were Streak and two other men 
Clive recognized instantly. There were Coldwater 
Sharp and Cougar Evans. The three gunmen 
stood together. Clive saw Two-Gun’s hands twitch 
as he caught sight of the trio. 

64 What yuh got to say, Moore?” Clive queried. 

64 Not a damn’ thing, Mister,” the sheepman 
answered. 44 As I be’n a-tellin’ this rider of yours 
for the last hour, I don’t know anythin’. He said 
he wanted to see our guns, and I accommodated 
him by tellin’ the boys to step outside and show 
’em to him. He didn’t seem to want to see ’em 
that way, though. Well, that’s the only way any 
of you beefies ’ll ever get a chance to look at our 
weepins, so you might as well pull your freight 
now.” 

44 Do yuh know one of muh men was shot in the 
arm with a rifle?” asked Clive. 

44 So your man, there, said,” Moore answered 
calmly, biting off a chew of black plug. 

44 Well, hombre , we’re here to find out who 
fired that shot.” Clive dismounted as he spoke and 
walked close to where Moore was standing. He 
noticed a shifting of rifle barrels back among the 
tents, but ignored it. 

44 Help yourself to findin’ out whatever you want 
to know, beefy,” said Moore. 44 1 ain’t stoppin’ 


142 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


you. I didn’t do no shootin’, I know that much, and 
furthermore, I didn’t hear anybody say they done 
any shootin’, either, and that’s that.” 

Clive leaned forward. 

“ Listen to me warble, shepherd,” he rasped. 
44 I reckon about the lowest thing the Lord ever let 
walk in this yere valley was a sheep herder, and if 
yuh don’t like muh sayin’ so, yuh know what yuh 
can do about it. Now, one of yore men or you, 
mebbe, shot one of muh men. I’m a-goin’ to find 
out who done it and make the damn’ skunk eat 
dirt. If I don’t find out now, I will later, Sabe?” 

The other’s eyes gleamed viciously in the rapidly 
growing light of the new-born day and he chewed 
rapidly on his quid of plug. 

64 1 don’t like your words, Mister Beef Eater, 
and I ain’t got no call to stand here and listen to 
’em, either. Now, this is open range and I reckon 
you’re legally entitled to stay out here as long as 
you like, but don’t pull any more of that kind of 
talk, or I’ll just nacherally let my boys claw you 
wide open.” 

Clive spat derisively, thrusting his sombrero high 
on his head and dropping his arms until his right 
hand swung near his .45. With his left hand he 
reached out, quickly, decisively, and between his 
thumb and the second joint of his first finger he 
caught Moore’s nose, giving a mighty, twisting tug. 
There was a howl of pain and a roar of rage from 
Moore and the sheepman literally burrowed his 
face into the dirt as he went down. He rose, claw- 


THE LINE RIDERS 


143 


ing at his bleeding proboscis. Behind him, Clive 
knew his own men were sitting rigidly, awaiting 
any orders he might give that would send them 
against the herders. 

Moore reached his feet, fuming and spouting 
curses. Small he was, but game and blinded by 
rage. He aimed a tremendous blow at Clive and 
the latter, rather ashamed now that he had used 
physical violence against a man only half his own 
size, grabbed the other’s hand even as it hurtled 
through the air. He held it in a grip of steel, talk¬ 
ing quietly: 

66 So, now, shepherd; don’t yuh go figgerin’ on 
whippin’ a man, or I’ll turn yuh over muh knee and 
give yuh a dang’ good spankin’, so help me. Now, 
yuh leetle toad, I pulled yore nose ’cause yuh got 
fresh with yore betters, and I’ll lam yuh with a 
piece of palo verde if yuh don’t keep quiet.” 

But Moore was past all reason and his curses 
blasted forth in a sulphurous stream. As Clive 
released his hand, the sheepman drew back for 
another blow, then Clive gathered the irate man in 
his arms. Fifty feet distant ran the range irriga¬ 
tion ditch. There was little water in it, but a goodly 
quantity of mud. Clive carried Moore to the 
piled-up bank-wall, held him poised an instant, 
then chucked him, head first, into the dark, sticky 
muck. 

66 Now, shepherd,” he said, as Moore, clawing 
mud and gasping for breath, crawled from the 
mire, 46 that orta cool yuh off. If it didn’t, why I 


144 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


reckon I’ll have to give yuh that spankin’ I prom¬ 
ised yuh awhile ago.” 

The keen, vicious crack of a rifle, sounding from 
a ridge to the right, interrupted him. The angry 
66 wham-m-m-m ” of a bullet sang in his ears. 
Shad’s hat lifted and sailed twenty feet distant, 
landing in the dirt and Shad, with a curse, threw 
himself bodily from his saddle. 

All turned in the direction of the shot. A rolling 
ridgej lay in that part of the range and from the 
top of this the bullet had come. No one was in 
sight. 

Moore’s triumphant voice called their attention 
back to him. 

“ Hands up, you damn’ beefies. Stick ’em 
higher’n a kite or out go your lights. We got you 
covered and we’ll shoot hell out of the first man 
that makes a move for his gun.” 

The Swinging J and Lazy X punchers turned 
back and saw the line of rifles, level and menac¬ 
ing, backed by eyes that glared angrily along the 
barrels. Cougar, Coldwater and Streak, revolvers 
dangling openly in their hands, stood advanced a 
little, ready for action. Rapidly Clive counted the 
opposing forces. There were sixteen, and thirteen 
of the men carried rifles. They were trapped 
neatly and there was nothing to do but take their 
medicine. Moore went on: 

66 Now, I want to serve a warnin’ to you birds. 
Get to hell away from here and don’t you never 
come back. From now on we post sentries and 


THE LINE RIDERS 


145 


the first man that comes this way that ain’t peace¬ 
ably inclined will get shot before he knows what 
it’s all about. As for you,” he glared at Clive, 
“ I’m goin’ to get you if it’s the last thing I ever 
do. There ain’t no man pulls my nose and throws 
me in a ditch and gets away with it for long. 
First time I meet you on the open range and you 
ain’t got a lot of your men with you at the time, 
you and me is goin’ to shoot it out. That’s my 
first, second and final notice to that effect. Now, 
get out, before I tell my men to cut loose.” 

Clive did the only sensible thing there was to do 
under the circumstances; he waved his hand toward 
the others and personally led the retreat, not heed¬ 
ing the ravings of Two-Gun Farrell and Shad 
Stevens, who wanted to stand their ground and 
shoot it out with the herders and gunmen. 

66 Yuh dang’ id juts,” Clive snorted as they 
crossed back over the Swinging J line, 66 them buz¬ 
zards has got rifles and every man’s got twice as 
many shots as ary one of us. What’s the matter 
with yuh, anyhow? Now, you fellers keep yore 
shirts on. We got to get some rifles, too, and we 
want to get ’em quick.” 

Sleepy spoke up: 

66 There’s a lot of rifles at the Lazy X, and I 
reckon old Simmons’ll let yuh use ’em. I’ll ride 
over after a while and see about ’em. What say?” 

66 Go to it,” McCourt agreed, and Clive nodded, 
adding: 

66 Seems to me I saw a couple in Miss Forest’s 


146 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


house, too. We only need enough to do some long 
distance talkin’ to them shepherds, I reckon.” 

64 Hell, look at them woolies scatterin’ across 
our grass,” swore Shad. 66 Here’s where I gets 
busy.” 

But Clive forbade any wholesale slaughter of 
the sheep, ordering, instead, that they be driven 
back to the range. 

46 It’s all right to shoot one or two of them woolies 
when they cross our line,” he said, 44 but they ain’t 
no use killin’ ’em wholesale. ’Tain’t their fault, 
anyways, and I reckon the fellers that own ’em is 
countin’ on us killin’ off a bunch. Send ’em back 
over the line, then keep ’em out.” 

With the sheep once more cleared from the ranch 
Clive called a council of war on the spot, and 
declared: 

44 This thing is goin’ to be plumb hell, boys. I 
see where them fellers is goin’ to lay off at a dis¬ 
tance and take pot shots at us with them rifles and 
they ain’t goin’ to try to keep the sheep off our 
ranch. I reckon I see their game now; they Agger 
on the woolies workin’ this way and gettin’ here in 
such numbers we can’t handle ’em very well, after 
which they’ll eat our grass all off and force us to 
sell off our stock. We orta have put a fence around 
the whole shebang, but that would cost a pile of 
dough, and Miss Forest can’t afford it just now. 
Looks to me like this is goin’ to settle itself in a 
reg’lar old-fashioned range war between cowmen 
and sheepmen.” 


THE LINE RIDERS 


147 


He saw heads nod approval, and went on: 

46 This bein’ the case, we got to adopt the old 
range tactics, but we’ll improve on ’em. We’ll 
dig some rifle pits and string some sections of wire 
out here. From this minnit on, every man that 
hears a bullet sing his way has orders to shoot hell 
out of the man that starts the trouble, if he can 
see him.” 

When Clive and Two-Gun, together with the night 
riders, reached the bunkhouse and apprised the 
others of what had happened, they were for mak¬ 
ing a raid on the sheep camp at once, but Clive 
cautioned them and urged peace for the time 
being, repeating the harangue he had given the 
riders out on the range. 


CHAPTER XI 
The Raid 

When Sleepy returned from the Lazy X in the 
afternoon he not only brought a dozen rifles, but 
also had three riders with him. Old Simmons, 
apprised of the previous night’s events, had 
stripped his ranch to a minimum of men and 
ordered the remainder to the Swinging J to aid 
Clive and Forest, adding that if Clive thought it 
best, the Lazy X steers should be shunted aside and 
left to shift for themselves until Simmons could 
find a place to care for them. 

66 Simmons don’t need to worry none about his 
cows,” said Clive. 46 We ain’t overburdened as 
yet with our own stock and I reckon what he’s 
payin’ Miss Forest to run his stock here is a-helpin’ 
her considerable in a financial way. Besides, if 
his cows wasn’t here, I reckon he wouldn’t feel 
called on to keep his men here, neither, and just 
now we need them the worst kind of way.” 

At intervals along the eight-mile stretch of 
Swinging J property that was still minus a fence, 
Clive had short sections of barbed-wire strung, 
figuring these would cut down materially the 
amount of territory his line riders would have to 
keep constant vigil over. He would have strung 
more wire, but did not want to create a further 
148 


THE RAID 149 

drain on Forest’s finances by ordering it in from 
Sunset. 

For several days there was peace, then signs 
broke out afresh that the war was not ended by any 
means. Twice in one night Swinging J riders heard 
bullets sing by their ears, and, judging by the con¬ 
sistency with which sheep managed to find their 
way onto the ranch it was evident that the herders 
were deliberately forcing the animals in that direc¬ 
tion. 

Day and night, now, when riders went forth they 
carried rifles in saddle boots and cartridges in 
saddle pockets, supplementing the side arms all 
the men wore as a part of their daily garb. 

A short time later, between midnight and dawn, 
when the bunkhouse was wrapped in peaceful 
repose, three quick shots, sounding nearby, roused 
Clive and his comrades and they piled out pell- 
mell. As rapidly as possible they dressed and 
scurried across the ranch. Jingle Jones was the 
first rider they met. It was his shots they had 
heard. 

46 What’s up, Jingle?” Clive called as he came 
within speaking distance. 

64 1 don’t know, Tex; I heard Chick Purdy shoot 
and I just let go as per orders,” came Jingle’s reply. 

44 Well, come a-runnin’, old timer,” Clive said, 
spurring by rapidly. 44 We’ll find out what’s 
wrong in a jiffy, I reckon.” 

Chick Purdy was in the same fix as Jingle had 
been. He had heard Hokum Smith fire his revolver 


150 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


and had done likewise as per the arrangements they 
had made. Halfway across the ranch they found 
Hokum, sprawled in the grass, writhing in pain. 
Near by lay his horse, shot through the head, Clive 
dropped from his saddle and knelt at Hokum’s 
side. 

44 Where’d they get yuh, Hokum?” he asked, 
anxiously. 

66 Didn’t get me a-tall,” the fallen man replied. 
44 They shot muh hoss and when he dropped I sorta 
got my foot tangled in the stirrup and the dang’ 
hoss fell on muh laig. I reckon it’s busted. Just 
happened the hoss wasn’t killed outright and when 
it started to struggle I was able to pull muhse’f 
loose, and here I am. I fired off muh six-gun 
’cause I didn’t want to lay here till mornin’.” 

Clive straightened and looked off across the 
range to where the dirty tents of the sheep camp 
were visible, a mile distant, bathed in the glory of 
the brilliant, low-hanging Arizona moon. The 
stars were unusually bright, even for Arizona. It 
was one of those delicious nights when, as any 
Arizonian will vouch for, a man might read a 
newspaper by starlight alone. Clive had no diffi¬ 
culty distinguishing the tents. 

44 One of yuh fellers help Hokum on a hoss and 
get him back to the ranch, where Blaze can fix him 
up. Two-Gun, grab a rifle, for you and me is 
goin’ up that ridge and see what we can see.” 

Two-Gun took a rifle that Reb Sefton handed to 
him and joined Clive, who was already carrying 


THE RAID 


151 


Faro Latimer’s rifle. They left their horses stand¬ 
ing, crawled under the barbed wire that had been 
strung at this point, and started stealthily for the 
ridge that had already been a bitter experience 
for them. The billowing waves of sheep parted 
as they advanced, then closed in behind. They 
were man-broken and paid little attention to the 
pair who walked among them. 

Reaching the ridge, Clive and Two-Gun laid 
down and looked carefully into the enemy camp. 
The only sign of life that was visible was a solitary 
figure that strode slowly about, rifle across shoul¬ 
der, as though doing guard duty. Clive said to 
Two-Gun: 

64 Think yuh can knock off that buzzard’s hat? 
I know damn’ well I can, but I reckon yo’re better 
with a gun than me.” 

44 Not with a rifle, I ain’t, Tex,” Two-Gun replied. 
44 If I draw down on that feller I’ll like as not 
scatter his brains all over them sheep. Yuh better 
do the shootin’ if yuh don’t want him killed plumb 
dead.” 

Clive sighted carefully and his finger tightened 
on the trigger. As the keen, whip-like report 
echoed across the range the hat on the man’s head 
bobbed and streaked through the air. He let out a 
yell and dashed for cover. Clive calmly sent a 
half-dozen shots through the tent tops, then led the 
way back to the ranch. He chuckled. 

44 Mebbe them bozos won’t be so free with their 
lead if we pass it back to ’em occasional like.” 


152 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


It seemed that Clive had gauged the situation 
truly, for a week went by without further mani¬ 
festation from the other side. But a tenseness in 
the air suggested that things were approaching a 
fresh outbreak, and Clive never relaxed his vigi¬ 
lance for even a day. Therefore, he was worried, 
but not greatly surprised a few mornings later when 
Jingle and Chick came in alone. They had not 
seen the others, they said, but as things seemed 
quiet on the range, they had not waited for them. 

When the others did not appear by the time 
breakfast was finished, Clive decided it was high 
time to seek them and, with his riders falling in 
with him, he urged Thunder at top speed along the 
line. Five miles out they came upon great, mov¬ 
ing waves of sheep, thousands and thousands 
of them, all grazing calmly on Swinging J 
grass. No herders were in sight, nor were any 
of Clive’s night riders visible. Plunging through 
the sheep, not caring how many they trampled, 
they hurried on, reaching in due course the fence 
of the Diamond L. There, bound with their own 
lariats, were their comrades, lying helpless and 
breathing venomous curses into the still air. 

When their bonds were loosed, they stood up and 
rubbed the circulation back into their numbed arms 
and legs, the while Shad Stevens talked: 

66 It was this-a-way, Clive; I was ridin’ as usual 
when somebody rose up out of the grass, covered 
me with a rifle and told me to get off muh hoss, 
pronto! There wasn’t anything for it but to do 


THE RAID 


153 


what I was told, then two more hombres come up 
and I was tied up like a damn’ chicken with muh 
own rope. They yanked me over yere and I found 
these fellers already fixed for the night. I’ll tell 
a man we had a right pleasant time a-layin’ here 
and seein’ who could out-cuss the rest of the 
bunch.” 

The tales of all were similar; all had been sur¬ 
prised, tied up and dragged to the Diamond L 
fence and left to be found by whoever might come 
seeking them. It was evident that the thing had 
been carefully conceived and carried out, and it 
had been so successful that by now five or six 
thousand sheep were eating the life out of Forest’s 
grassy acres. Clive swore mightily. 

66 Well, it’s a-goin’ to be one damn’ big job to 
get them sheep off a here and after we do, we ain’t 
goin’ to be safe ag’in’ more of these kind of su’- 
prise parties, either. We got to strike back at them 
fellers sudden like, and hard and plenty all to 
once. Lemme think.” 

66 Think, hell,” snorted Shad. 66 Yuli be’n doin’ 
too damn’ much thinkin’ and what has it got us? I 
know it got me a dang’ fine tyin’ up for one thing, 
and it got some of the other boys bullets where they 
didn’t want ’em. Me, I say it’s time for yuh to 
quit yore dang’ thinkin’ and start some action.” 

“ Ezackly,” said Clive. 64 Action is what I’m 
thinkin’ about, now for cripe’s sake shut up a 
minnit, and leave them sheep go for the time 
bein’. I got a idee and after I elucidate, we’ll get 


154 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


them woolies off. If muh scheme works, we won’t 
be troubled with ’em much longer, either.” 

He turned to Two-Gun and Bull Ellerby. 

66 Do yuh reckon we’d find all them shepherds 
at their camp now? I mean all of ’em, too; not 
just part of ’em.” 

46 They shore orta be in this time of day,” re¬ 
joined Bull. 44 They’d nacherally be a-thinkin’ we 
was busy gettin’ these woolies outa here, and they 
wouldn’t be a-worryin’ about us for the time bein’. 
What’s on yore mind?” 

44 1 was just a-wonderin’ if we could round them 
skunks up and keep ’em under cover and quiet 
like until say tomorra night,” Clive told him. 

44 Now yo’ra shoutin’,” cried Shad. 44 They 
didn’t take none of our guns and they didn’t bother 
our hosses. We’re most of us here. Let’s go, 
cowboy.” 

44 All right,” acquiesced Clive, 44 but listen. 
Everybody get the idee, now. I want every last one 
of them herders caught; every man, onderstand? 
We can’t afford to have a single one get away and 
spread word of what I’m a-fixin’ to do. We got to 
circle that camp and take it from all sides at once. 
If they show fight, then dang it, we got to shoot 
it out with them, that’s all. Remember, no man is 
to get away. Ready?” 

They left their horses at the line and advanced 
on foot. Signs of life were plentiful at the camp 
and, looking down at it from the vantage point on 
the ridge, Clive, for an instant, doubted whether 


THE RAID 155 

they would be able to surprise the place. Blaze 
Ormsby made a suggestion: 

66 They are bound to see us coming, Clive, so we 
may as well make the best of it. I’ll take some of 
the boys and circle to the right. Let Two-Gun 
take a few more and move off to the left. When 
we meet, we will come this way, closing in on them. 
Meantime, you and the remainder of the boys stay 
up here until you see a signal from us, then 
bring them forward on the run.” 

And it was so agreed. It took time and care to 
surround the camp, for the circle necessarily had 
to be a large one and when it was at last com¬ 
pleted there were wide gaps between the men. As 
they closed up, these gaps, of course, decreased. 

An hour later Clive, watching intently, saw a hat 
stuck on the end of a rifle barrel, being held in the 
air and waved. Immediately he rose and told the 
others to follow. They had barely got underway 
when somebody at the camp let out a startled yell. 
Instantly the occupants of the dirty canvas came 
tumbling out, guns in hand, peering toward Clive 
and his men, unaware as yet of those who were 
approaching from the other three sides. 

64 Don’t shoot unless they do,” Clive warned, 
44 hut if they do, I reckon we’ll let ’em have it. 
Aim low, ’cause we don’t want to hit anybody 
over there with Blaze or Two-Gun.” 

Just then the sheepmen discovered the lines that 
were closing in elsewhere about them and, drop¬ 
ping to the ground, they brought their rifles into 


156 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


play. A veritable fusillade sounded, but the cow¬ 
men had dropped, too, and the bullets sang over¬ 
head without doing damage. Clive let out a yell: 

“ If you fellers give in yuh won’t get hurted none 
whatever, but if yuh try to shoot this thing to a 
finish, then I reckon yuh’ll get hell good and 

plenty” . , 

66 What do you want?” a voice cried. Clive 
recognized the nasal twang of old Joe Moore. 

“ We want you fellers to throw down yore 
guns,” he answered. 66 If yuh’ll do that we won’t 
hurt yuh none, as I said. If yuh don’t, then yuh 
got to take the consequences.” 

66 We’ll have the law on you for this,” squealed 
Moore. 

66 Help yorese’f,” Clive told him, 46 but if yuh 
don’t have no more success with it than our owner 
did yuh’ll shore be in hard luck. Just now, how- 
sumever, yuh’ll do what I suggests or we’ll just 
nacherally pulverize yuh.” 

44 All right. You got us cornered, and you’re 
two to our one. We quit.” Moore said it venom¬ 
ously. 

A half hour later the sheepmen were tied 
securely with lariats and their guns had been piled 
in a neat stack inside one of the tents, the cart¬ 
ridges first having been ejected from their maga¬ 
zines, however. Two-Gun said to Clive: 

44 Cougar, Coldwater and Streak ain’t here, Tex. 
I reckon we orta had them in this yere shindig.” 

44 If they’d be’n here you wouldn’t have taken us 


THE RAID 157 

so easy,” rasped the grizzled Moore, belligerent 
as ever. 

“ Shut yore bazoo, yuh damn’ pole-cat,” 
growled Shad. 66 Yo’re only gittin’ what some of 
yore men pulled on us last night, and yuh orta be 
glad we don’t take yuh out to a cottonwood and let 
six feet of Arizona air whistle under yore feet.” 

66 Bah,” said old Moore, spitting angrily. 

64 Shad,” Clive ordered, 66 get them bozos to¬ 
gether and you and Jingle and Reb herd ’em back 
to the ranch. If yuh don’t want ’em to stink up the 
bunkhouse, yuh can lock ’em in the tool shed, but 
for cripe’s sake, don’t let none of ’em get away. 
Then you fellers stay there ?with Miss Forest. I 
reckon we’ll be back with yuh afore long.” 

He watched as Shad, Jingle and Reb drove the 
sheepmen off, then led the way back to the horses. 
As they mounted they saw their three comrades, 
astride their own animals, hastening their prisoners 
forward with ungentle words and sundry threats. 
Then they left for the business of ridding the range 
of the sheep. 

All day long they rode to and fro, urging and 
waving their arms, herding the sea of dirty white 
back off the Swinging J acres, out onto the open 
range, and over toward the Box 0 and the Diamond 
L. It was no easy task, and the brilliant stars were 
shining and the soft Arizona night was over the 
valley when at last they finished. 

Serene in the knowledge that their enemies 
temporarily, at least, were checkmated they made 


158 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


a hearty meal from the sheepmen’s supplies, then 
found rest under the open skies, resting calmly and 
peacefully until the first streaks of dawn hitting 
his eyelids, roused Clive, who sat up and let out a 
yell. 

Breakfast came from the sheepmen’s stores, then 
the work of urging the sheep forward was taken up 
again. 

“ Keep ’em a-goin’, boys,” Clive said. 66 It’s a 
hell of a note that them fellers didn’t have no 
dawgs. It on’y goes to show, howsumever, that 
they didn’t intend herdin’ these sheep; shows they 
just intended that they’d devil the life out of us 
with ’em. Who ever heard tell of a sheep outfit 
that didn’t have no shepherd dogs?” He spat dis¬ 
gustedly. 

As the last of the sheep passed the cluster of 
tents, Clive walked rapidly to each dirty heap of 
canvas. Behind him little bursts of flame cropped 
up and licked greedily at the oiled cloth. Soon 
they flared into roaring infernos and in a trice the 
camp was a heap of smouldering supplies that 
smoked terrifically. The pungent tang of sizzling 
bacon was mingled with the acrid smell of burn¬ 
ing coffee and pepper and a series of popping ex¬ 
plosions denoted that the rifle ammunition was 
going up in smoke. 

Leaving the ruins behind them they urged the 
sheep forward and when all were well against the 
intersection of the fences of the three ranches, the 
Box 0, Crazy H and Diamond L, Clive, Two-Gun 


THE RAID 159 

and Blaze moved forward, wire clippers in their 
hands, and set to work. 

Musical “pung-g-g-gs” followed the snapping of 
each wire. At the end of an hour they had opened 
great gaps in all three ranch fences and through 
these the sheep were pouring in a literal sea of 
tossing heads and clicking hoofs. 

Clive, watching as the sheep poured through and 
among the cattle-studded reaches of the enemy 
ranches, chuckled happily. 

66 1 reckon that’s a-goin’ to hold them fellers 
for a while, and I’d tell a man it’s payin’ ’em 
back in their own medicine, too.” 

Just then a shot sounded from back among the 
cattle and a bullet sang angrily past them. Blaze 
ducked and swore fervently. 

66 That son of a gun must have been drawing 
down on me,” he exclaimed. 66 I’ll bet my hat 
against a goat’s chin-whiskers that bullet didn’t 
miss me an inch.” 

Meantime, the sheep, attracted by the tall, rich 
grass inside the line fences, continued to pour 
through. It was apparent that the entire body of 
twenty or more thousand would eventually crowd 
through onto the ranches and desert the dryer, 
scantier grass of the range. Clive drew a deep 
breath. 

66 1 reckon the feller that fired that shot will 
streak it back to his boss and pass the word about 
what’s happened here. Well, it’ll be three-four 
hours before anybody can arrive and by that time 


160 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


it’ll be too late to stop these sheep. My, but won’t 
they have one sweet job gettin’ rid of them woolies? 
They’re all scattered in among the cows. It’ll be 
a two-three day job, at least, to sort ’em out and 
shoo ’em back through these holes. ’Tain’t like 
the sheep was all by their lonesome. Oh, mama, 
wait till they see what they’re up ag’in.” He 
laughed happily. 

Back at the ranch they found Shad, Reb and 
Jingle had shut their prisoners in the tool shed and 
had maintained careful watch over them. Shad 
said the men had never ceased to curse, save only 
when they ate. 

66 But their cussin’ shore was sweet music to me, 
cowboy,” Shad grinned, 66 foi" that’s just what we 
done dang’ near a whole night out there ourselves.” 

Next morning, having heard nothing from the 
ranchers whose acres now held the sheep, they 
gave the prisoners hearty breakfasts and told them 
they might depart, provided they left the valley. 
This, all agreed to do. 

66 Where do yuh allow to go from yere, boys?” 
Clive asked, his face innocent. 66 Yore camp 
caught fire sorta accidental like when them woolies 
got tangled up in it and yore things was all 
burned, even yore rifles. I reckon yuh’ll have to 
get new outfits afore yuh can do any work ag’in.” 

64 Them woolies can go plumb to hell,” snarled 
Moore, his wizened face a mask of hatred. 64 We 
ain’t a-goin’ to monkey no more with ’em. We 
know when we got enough and we made no bar¬ 
gains to come down in this valley and play dog 


THE RAID 


161 


for nobody. We was to stick around them sheep 
and let ’em do as they damned pleased, savin’ only 
that we was to help ’em get on the Swingin’ J grass, 
and we was to throw an occasional shot and such¬ 
like your way if you got to snoopin’ around too 
promiscuous. Well, we’re a-goin’ to get out right 
now and we’re a-goin’ to stay out.” 

“ Well,” grinned Clive, “Pm right sorry if we 
speeded up yore departure any, as the feller says, 
but hasta luega , amigo mio .” 

Moore’s parting salute was a venomous curse 
and, 66 1 ain’t no friend of yours, not by a damn’ 
sight, and you don’t need to give me any soft Mex 
farewells, neither. You and your ranch and this 
whole valley can go plumb to hell.” 

Clive chuckled. 

66 And old Bob Henley can go to hell, too,” con¬ 
tinued Moore. 

Clive started this time. Bob Henley! That 
would be some member of the firm of the Henley 
Cattle & Sales Co., without a doubt. So that was 
where the inspiration and the capital for the sheep 
idea came from! 

He cried to the now departing Moore: 

64 Was it that Henley cattle buyin’ firm in Chi- 
cawgo that hired yuh, Moore?” 

“ Yeh,” the wizened villain hurled back, “and 
you can tell them to go to hell, too.” 

With a wide grin on his face and contentment in 
his heart, Clive watched the herders disappear in 
the direction of the road leading toward Saddle- 
hack Pass, 


CHAPTER XII 
Aftermath 

Neither Clive nor any of the others expected 
that the raid on the sheep camp and the turning of 
the animals onto the ranches across Cougar Creek 
would go by without some effort being made in 
the nature of reprisals. But for three days there 
was peace and then the riders, ranging about the 
ranch, saw the billowing sea of dirty white once 
more spreading out across the open range land. 
Line riding had to be resumed, but it was now com¬ 
paratively easy to keep the sheep on their own 
grounds, for there were no longer any herders to 
keep urging them over onto the Swinging J. 

All wondered what had become of Cougar, Cold- 
water and Streak, but those who had known the two 
former in other times also knew that they prob¬ 
ably were merely lying low for the time being, 
awaiting a favorable opportunity to strike and 
strike decisively. And this surmise, in the end, 
proved true. 

Yank Davis, a puncher who rode for the Lazy X, 
was the first victim. He had been over to report 
to Simmons one day, according to a schedule that 
had been carried out all through the summer and 
autumn. He was returning from such a trip late 
in the afternoon when, at the ford across Cougar 
Creek, he had met Coldwater. 

162 


AFTERMATH 


163 


An altercation had followed and guns had been 
flashed. Naturally Yank got the worst of it. He 
came into the ranch yard of the Swinging J with 
his right arm broken between shoulder and elbow, 
a bullet in his right side and another in his leg. 
He was conscious two days, then sank into a coma 
that Blaze, despite all his efforts and skill, could 
not ward off. On the fifth day Yank died. They 
buried him under the towering cottonwood, beside 
the grave of Wag Deering. But before he had 
lapsed into his last stupor he had been able to tell 
how Coldwater accosted him and had gone for his 
gun. Yank, brave as they made them, and know¬ 
ing he was hopelessly outclassed, had also reached 
for his, but too late. Coldwater’s three smashing 
bullets had found their marks. The shot in the side, 
Ormsby said, had penetrated Yank’s liver and 
caused death. 

Two-Gun Farrell was like a man afire following 
this incident. His normally pale face was, if pos¬ 
sible, whiter than ever and his eyes constantly held 
little shooting green flames that would not die 
down. They flared high whenever Coldwater’s 
name was mentioned. Despite Clive’s pleadings 
and even his downright commands, Two-Gun 
ranged far and wide, his silver-mounted guns shin¬ 
ing in the sunlight, seeking trouble; courting a 
meeting with Coldwater or any one else who chose 
to draw and shoot it out. 

After a week of this, when the soft, mild Ari¬ 
zona winter was coming on, Clive started to ride 


164 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


with Two-Gun, fearing he would be waylaid and 
overwhelmed with numbers and shot down in cold 
blood. So it was that on a cool December day, 
when the orange trees were showing signs of the 
rich crops they would yield the following March 
and April, that Two-Gun had his desires fulfilled. 

He, Clive and Faro Latimer had been over to 
the Lazy X for a chin-chin with old Simmons. 
They were returning along the highway where it 
crossed the Box 0 when five riders met them in 
the road. Coldwater was among them and Clem 
Jacobs also was there, having completely recovered 
from his terrific wounds of the previous spring in 
the Swinging J ranchyard. Two-Gun saw Cold- 
water and the green flames in his eyes flared at their 
highest. He made a little clucking sound with his 
mouth and Clive, looking intently at him, saw his 
face was as set and as white as a block of marble. 

Coldwater gazed insolently at the trio, and Two- 
Gun returned his stare with interest. For the riders 
to pass it was necessary for one or both parties to 
pull to the side of the road. This Clive and Faro 
did, but Two-Gun allowed his horse to remain 
where it was. As for the Box 0 riders and Cold- 
water Sharp, they had spread the entire width of 
the highway; none of them pulled aside. Obvi¬ 
ously they intended riding the Swinging J riders 
from the road and down into the little irrigation 
ditch that paralleled it. 

Clem Jacobs, his eyes frosty, eyed Clive. He 
felt secure in the preponderance of numbers that 


AFTERMATH 


165 


lay with his side; he felt especially secure in the 
knowledge that Coldwater was with him, for Cold- 
water was a gunman extraordinary and in addition 
to that, a noted trick and fancy shot artist. 

44 Get to hell off of the road, Morgan,” Jacobs 
rasped harshly, “ or we’ll run over yuh, yuh damn’ 
piebald bozo.” 

66 If yo’re a-figgerin’ on puttin’ us off ’n the road, 
Jacobs, yo’re welcome to start try in’ any time yuh 
feel like it,” Clive said coolly, his eyes glinting. 
Faro Latimer was still ranged beside him, so that 
the trio spread in a thin line half way across the 
road. 

66 Yuh heard ’em, cowboys,” Jacobs said over his 
shoulder to his own followers. 66 Are we goin’ to 
let ’em deny us the road?” 

Coldwater’s hands were hovering above his guns, 
fingers twitching. Two-Gun Farrell sat easily, 
hands swinging loosely, eyes alert and fairly scin¬ 
tillating their green fires. 

66 Come on, men,” yelled Jacobs. 44 Let’s wipe 
out this bunch of toads right now.” With the 
words he went for his gun. 

Coldwater had been watching Two-Gun and now, 
at Jacobs’ words, he reached for his own six- 
shooters. 

A blur of smoke wafted across the road and 
men fell from horses, while the riderless beasts 
drummed off in terror. Two-Gun, watching Cold- 
water, had seen the latter start to draw, and Two- 
Gun, trusting Clive and Faro to take care of the 


166 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


others, moved his own hands. His guns exploded 
as a unit and twin holes, three inches apart, ap¬ 
peared like magic one above Coldwater’s either 
eye. Coldwater’s revolvers, barely half raised, sent 
their messengers of death into the hard-packed dirt 
of the road, while the man himself was dead before 
he started to pitch from the saddle. 

Two-Gun, flipping his weapons, sent two more 
shots crashing, then felt Faro slump heavily against 
him. He reached out an arm and steadied his 
comrade and heard Clive yell: 

66 That’s all, Two-Gun. Yuh got Coldwater and 
that geezer with the pock-marked face. I ac¬ 
counted for Jacobs and I reckon Faro killed the 
skunk that shot ’im. The other feller is pullin’ 
leather hell-bent down the road.” 

Two-Gun thrust his weapons in their holsters 
and turned to look at Faro. Blood poured over his 
face and his eyes were closed. His sombrero was 
gone. Anxiously, Two-Gun ran an exploring 
finger across a gash in Faro’s scalp, then swore 
delightedly: 

66 Creased ’im, that’s all. Hell, yuh can’t kill 
good old Faro nohow. They split his scalp and let 
out a lot of blood, but I betcha he’s all right come 
tomorra.” 

Clive dropped from his saddle and examined the 
damage they had inflicted on their foes. Cold- 
water and Clem Jacobs were dead, but the other 
two were breathing. Clive, with long years of 
range experience behind him, had seen many 


AFTERMATH 167 

wounds. He saw now that with proper care the 
two would survive. 

66 We’ll put ’em on the hoss that Coldwater rode, 
which was the only one that didn’t stampede, and 
when we passes the Box 0 trail we’ll head ’em 
in that-a-way and let the hosses take ’em to the 
ranch house. We can’t let ’em lay here helpless 
like.” 

Two-Gun, now that he had avenged Yank, was 
happy and his dourness of the last several days 
fell from him. He held Faro while Clive fas¬ 
tened the wounded men to the horse and led the 
way down the road. He had already bandaged 
Faro’s head with what materials he had at hand — 
a silk neckerchief and a strip of his own under¬ 
shirt — and now that worthy opened his eyes, to 
wonder what had happened. 

66 1 shore thought that was the end,” he said 
finally. 66 1 saw that hombres gun go bust right 
in muh face, just after I pulled the trigger of 
muh own six-gun. That’s the last thing I recalls. 
Did I git him?” 

66 He’s there on that hoss, shot through the neck,” 
Two-Gun told him. 66 1 reckon he won’t die, but he 
shore will have trouble eatin’ for some time to 
come.” 

Faro straightened in his saddle, feeling life 
pulse back through his veins rapidly. Save for a 
slight dizziness he proclaimed himself as well as 
ever. It was well that this was true, for when 
they passed the Box 0 trail and turned the laden 


168 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


horse through the gate, heading it toward the ranch 
house, a fusillade of shots rattled from back among 
the orange trees and bullets whistled about their 
ears. 

Faro was now in the lead and his horse took 
the fence on the opposite side of the road at a 
bound, landing cleanly on the other side, and 
bounding off across the grass. Clive touched 
Thunder’s ribs and the noble black cleared the wire 
with even greater ease than had Faro’s animal. 
Another fusillade sounded and Two-Gun’s horse 
went plunging into the wire just as it was leaving 
the ground to make the leap. Two-Gun shot across 
its head, landing over the fence. Clive reined in 
and turned back. He saw Two-Gun rise and run 
toward him. 

46 Come on, Two-Gun,” he cried. 44 Climb on 
Thunder. He’ll carry us both and still out-dis¬ 
tance anything they’ve got on the Box 0.” 

Their flight was hastened by more shots and the 
heavy lead slugs from several rifles whistled about 
them. A man on horseback, especially if he is 
riding furiously, is an extremely difficult target to 
hit. Probably this is why none of the Box 0 
bullets took effect. At any rate, they rounded a 
drove of steers, clipped the top strands of a wire 
fence and clattered into the highway without further 
incident. When they crossed the ford at Cougar 
Creek, Two-Gun said: 

44 Here’s where Coldwater did for Yank. I wish 
to hell I’d met Coldwater here. Well, Yank can 


AFTERMATH 


169 


rest easy, for Coldwater ain’t goin’ to bother no 
more honest men.” 

Back at the ranch Ormsby greeted Faro with a 
frown: 

46 A sixteenth of an inch lower, Faro, and you 
would be playing a harp. Keep quiet a few days 
and don’t over-exert yourself and start the blood 
again and you will be all right.” 

Forest received news of the encounter with her 
usual distressed air. Her tender heart would 
never cease grieving at bloodshed, but she had gone 
too far now to draw back and while sorrowful, 
nevertheless was calm about it. 

That night Clive and Forest sat in the living room 
of the ranch house discussing the situation in the 
Cottonwood Valley, and Forest made a suggestion 
that had been in her mind for weeks. 

64 Clive, if the Henley Cattle & Sales Co. is back 
of all this, why can we not start a direct action 
against them? It seems to me that so long as they 
are permitted to continue the hiring of men to 
persecute us, we’ll never be rid of this warfare. 
Surely, there is some way to reach them directly.” 

44 Yuh shore said somethin’. Miss Forest, and 
I’ve thought of that; but so far the only way I’ve 
seen to hit at them fellers is to strike back in their 
own fashion, and strike twice to their once. I 
don’t reckon we’re anythin’ behind the game so 
far, leastwise, not since we started fightin’ ’em.” 

44 But our present methods are too brutal, Clive. 
You know that I never would have countenanced 


170 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


the burning of Mr. Horner’s buildings had I known 
what you planned; nor would I have permitted 
Two-Gun to go riding about the valley the way he 
did if I had been given an inkling that he was 
deliberately trying to provoke a clash with Cold- 
water. It is all very well to say that the enemy 
men who are dead deserved to die, and that Mr. 
Horner was only the victim of a just retribution, 
but just think of the name you are making for me 
while you are doing all these things.” She spoke 
earnestly and a little sadly. 

Clive chuckled boldly, not at all in sympathy 
with her mood. 

“ Any time yuh don’t like yore name, Miss For¬ 
est, yuh can shore change it mighty quick, I 
reckon,” he said, daringly. 

She looked at him, a little puzzled, a little con¬ 
fused. 

“ I don’t think I quite understand you,” she said 
slowly. 

Clive thereupon was abashed, but he was not the 
man to start a thing and not complete it, so he 
continued: 

66 1 was just a-thinkin’ that any time yuh got 
tired callin’ yorese’f name of Glade, yuh might 
change it to Morgan.” His eyes now met hers 
fairly. 

If he had expected her to be taken aback, he 
was mistaken. It was not the first time that words 
of this import had fallen on her pink little ears, 
and now she returned Clive’s gaze without waver- 


AFTERMATH 


171 


ing. If anything, his remark lifted her out of her 
despondency and roused the other side of her 
feminine nature. A half smile stole quickly over 
her face. 

66 Clive Morgan, is that a proposal?” she asked, 
and he was certain there was a joyous lilt to her 
voice. 

This time Clive was routed. Never much for 
women, he did not know how to take them, and now 
that she had turned the situation squarely back 
upon him, he fell down woefully. 

44 Well, yuh can call it that if yuh want to, I 
reckon,” he managed to mumble, 46 though I 
guess mebbe I wasn’t just meanin’ it daid earnest 
like-” 

He realized that he was making things worse 
for himself and stopped in confusion, his cheeks 
stained crimson beneath their tan. The girl’s 
merry laugh dinned in his ears. 

44 He proposes and hasn’t the nerve to back it 
up,” she said softly. 44 My, what a bold, bold man 
he is. One would never think he could face six- 
guns and sheep herders and such when he is so 
fearful of a puny, helpless girl. However, I shall 
seriously consider his question and if I decide that 
he actually proposed, I shall let him have my 
answer later.” 

Baffled by her laughter and somewhat aloof 
way of addressing him, Clive rose and stumbled 
from the room. On the veranda he paused and 
kicked himself viciously. 



172 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


66 Clive Morgan, yuh plumb damn’ fool,” he 
growled to himself, 66 ain’t yuh got no sense a-tall? 
Next time yuh try to propose to that gal, damn 
yuh, do it, and don’t just go lally-gaggin’ along like 
a school kid with a mash on his young teacher. 
Oh, hell!” 

He pulled his sombrero savagely over his head 
and stalked to the bunkhouse. He did not know, 
of course, that soft eyes, watching him from be¬ 
hind white lace curtains, followed his progress; nor 
did he know that a girl’s heart was beating just a 
little faster, and that tears were very near to welling 
down her cheeks. 

Back in the bunkhouse Clive said to Ormsby: 

66 Say, Blaze, you bein’ the only one among us 
that a man might call real eddycated like, I want 
yore advice on somethin’.” 

64 What is it, Clive? Are you in love, or sick at 
your stomach? You look just now as though 
either might be ailing you. I’ve always found that 
bicarbonate of soda is good for a man in either 
case, too.” 

Clive flushed guiltily. 

44 Don’t start none of that, now, Blaze, or you 
and me’ll mix it right here and now. I want yuh 
to tell me if yuh think it would be worth while 
to go to Chicawgo and see them Henley fellers 
about this here range war. Think we could go 
back there and throw a scare into them buzzards 
sufficient to make ’em call off their dogs here in 
the valley?” 


AFTERMATH 


173 


Ormsby immediately turned serious and dropped 
beside Clive on a bunk. 

64 The only way to reach the Henley people as a 
firm, Clive, is to go to law,” he said. 64 1 don’t 
imagine there is even any way you can do that, 
either, for things are too complicated here. As I 
understand the situation, the Henley concern actu¬ 
ally owns these ranches, but operates them through 
dummy owners who in reality are only managers 
and carry out the Henley policies. Deeds and 
other records in the courthouse at Sunset fail to 
show any connection between these ranches and any 
of the Henley concern, so we’d have a fine time 
proving anything in court against them.” 

He paused as Clive thought this over, then con¬ 
tinued: 

44 And as for the ranchers here in the valley, it 
would be rather useless for us to proceed against 
them. We have done them more damage than they 
have inflicted on us, and if we went after them in 
the courts, charging them with murder and arson, 
they would file counter charges of the same thing 
against us; if by any chance we won our case 
against them, it would be against them as individ¬ 
uals, and not against the Henley company. In 
other words, if the Henley firm does own these 
ranches and we won a court suit against these 
alleged owners, all the Henley people would do 
would be remove the men here and place new 
owner-managers in charge. In that event we’d be 
no further than we are now. The best thing we 


174 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


can do, in my opinion, is to continue as we are 
until we can get definite proof against the Hen¬ 
ley Cattle & Sales Co. as a firm, and then act.” 

Clive gazed at Ormsby, a rapt expression on his 
face. He drew a deep breath. 

66 By cripes, Blaze,” he said, 44 if I could talk 
like that I’d give a million dollars, if I had a 
million dollars.” 

Blaze laughed and Clive continued: 

66 Now, I want yuh to, do me a favor. I want 
yuh to go to Miss Forest and talk to her just like 
yuh talked to me about this thing. She seems to 
have a idee that we ought to get in the courts pronto 
like, and I reckon I ain’t got the proper lingo to tell 
her that our way is the better one.” 

66 Anything you say, Clive,” Ormsby agreed, 
44 I’ll even propose to her for you, if you’ll just 
say the word.” 

He ducked Clive’s swinging fist and retired 
amid a gale of laughter that swept through the 
bunkhouse at the latter’s expense. 

44 1 reckon yuh dang’ doodle-bugs think that was 
funny,” Clive said wrathfully, 44 and yuh can every 
last mother’s son of yuh go plumb to the devil 
and pitch his tent for ’im.” 

After listening to Ormsby’s views of the situa¬ 
tion, Forest next morning expressed herself as 
being satisfied to wait, in the hope that something 
definite would ultimately be uncovered that would 
pin the guilt of the valley warfare on the Chicago 


AFTERMATH 175 

concern, and thus the matter was allowed to rest 
for the time being. 

Day followed day in rapid succession, but peace 
hovered over the range. Since the deaths of Cold- 
water and Clem Jacobs there had been no further 
clashes and soon the sheep began to disappear from 
the range, a few at a time. They would have 
starved if left there longer, for they had eaten the 
range grass down to the dirt. Now that the ani¬ 
mals had to be cared for, the men of the Diamond 
L, M-Bar-T, Crazy H, Box 0 and the Dollar M 
made no bones about dividing them up and taking 
them onto their pastures until such time as they 
could be sent out of the valley. 

On the day this occurred the Swinging J riders, 
Forest with them, sat at the lower end of the Circle 
C and watched the woolies disappear into Saddle¬ 
back Pass. Clive laughed happily. 

66 Another one of their plans gone plumb wrong,” 
he chortled. “ I reckon it cost them Henley people 
a dang’ big pile of money to run them woolies in 
here and out ag’in, and it didn’t get ’em anything 
after all. The range won’t be no good ag’in till 
next spring, and that means all them ranches’ll 
have more cows under fence than they can handle 
properly. I hope the onmannerly skunks goes 
busted; that’s me.” 

With the going of the sheep the valley peace 
continued until after New Year’s day, then a new 
menace brooded on the silent air. 


CHAPTER XIII 
Forest Disappears 

Ever since his talk with Ormsby, Clive had been 
obsessed with one idea — to get some sort of evi¬ 
dence that could be used to convict the Henley 
Cattle & Sales Co. as being guilty of sponsoring 
and inspiring the outrages that had set the valley 
afire with discord and strife. Thoroughly con¬ 
vinced that the big commission house, with its huge 
capital and powerful influence, was behind all the 
trouble, he had resolved that by hook or crook, he 
would uncover something he could pin on them — 
something that would be definite enough and dam¬ 
aging enough to win a court case. 

How to obtain such evidence was a problem that 
threatened to overwhelm him in the solving. From 
what Sleepy and others had told him he knew that 
everyone in the valley, excepting only those who 
actually knew, believed the ostensible owners of 
these vast ranches were exactly what they purported 
to be, and they scouted any suggestion that the Chi¬ 
cago commission house was behind all the trouble. 
Clive himself sometimes felt doubts, too, for try as 
he would he could not light on a definite motive for 
the Henley virulency in conducting the warfare. 

Although the sheep were now gone, the Swinging 
J riders continued to guard the lines, for Forest’s 
cattle had to be kept on her own broad acres where 
176 


FOREST DISAPPEARS 


177 


The grass was thick and rich. Out on the range 
the grass had only.begun to get a fresh start from 
the devastation wrought by the sheep and Simmons, 
who had ridden over from the Lazy X, decided to 
maintain his arrangement with Forest for the care 
of his stock, too. 

During the long, peaceful days that now became 
a part of the valley life, Clive scoured the valley 
from end to end, hoping always that he might by 
some unforeseen stroke of good luck, run across 
the evidence he was seeking. He met riders from 
many of the other outfits on occasions, but aside 
from a few hot verbal clashes nothing untoward 
had occurred. 

Forest left her semi-seclusion and joined Clive 
frequently in long rides about the ranch, and even 
through the valley, and there were occasions now 
when she took long rides alone. At first he pro¬ 
tested against this, but finding it futile desisted. 
And so came a day when Clive was off examining 
some water holes, that Forest emerged from the 
ranch house, asked Pink Sellers to saddle her sorrel 
mare, and galloped away across the range. Pink 
gave the incident little attention and as Forest dis¬ 
appeared around the corral he went into the bunk- 
house and busied himself with a game of solitaire. 

It was not until the evening meal, when Clive 
noticed that Forest was not in her accustomed place 
at the head of the table, that Pink again thought of 
the girl’s going. He told Clive of the incident and 
the latter, alarmed, sent Charley Long scurrying off 


178 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


to her room, to learn if she had returned. Pink 
ran to the corral to ascertain if the sorrel mare was 
inside and both he and the Chinaman returned 
at the same time with negative reports. 

This was the latest Forest had ever remained out 
on her rides and Clive was genuinely alarmed. 
He looked at his heavy, open-faced silver watch, 
then glanced at the sun, still an hour above the 
western range of the Mogollons, and shook his 
head. 

66 Well,” he opined, “ mebbe she’s just a-ridin’ 
somewhere’s and’ll be back pronto , but I’m sort of 
worried like. If she ain’t back in a hour, we’re 
a-goin’ to start after her, cowboys.” 

“ Yeh,” said Shad Stevens, 66 she may’ve rode 
further’n she intended, and just ain’t got back yet. 
No use worryin’ till we got to, I reckon.” 

Two-Gun Farrell’s eyes were shooting their little 
green flames and his pale face had gone dead white. 
Clive, looking at him, knew that Two-Gun was on a 
thin edge, waiting impatiently for the hour to 
pass; knew, too, that if the girl had not returned 
within that time, Farrell would be the first to spin 
the cylinders of his revolvers and take the trail. 

The hour passed on wings of lead and as the last 
second ticked off Clive standing on the roof of the 
bunkhouse, gazed out across the range, all red 
and amber and gold in the light of the setting sun. 
He could see for miles across the undulating acres, 
but not a shadow of life crossed his vision save 
where the cattle grazed quietly. 


FOREST DISAPPEARS 


179 


He slid from the roof, landed lightly on the balls 
of his feet and straightened, tightening his belt. 
The day riders had come in from the line and the 
night riders were getting ready to start out. Clive 
looked over the assembled punchers, noting that all 
were watching him anxiously. He turned to Monte 
and gave a quick order: 

66 Monte, let yore night men ride alone tonight, 
and do double distance. I want all the boys that 
can be spared to come with me. There’s some¬ 
thing up, and I’m a-goin’ to locate it. ’Pears to 
me like somethin’s happened to Miss Forest and I 
reckon if anythin’ has I’m just nacherally go in’ to 
ride through this yere valley with a fine-tooth 
comb till I locate her. If anybody’s hurt her, God 
help ’em, for there’ll be a lynchin’.” 

Two-Gun Farrell set his hat more firmly on his 
head and turned toward the corral. Clive fol¬ 
lowed, crying across his shoulder: 

64 Come on, cowboys; get yore broncs and let’s 
get a-goin’. ” 

Monte McCourt and the men he was not send¬ 
ing out for the night line riding, followed. Monte 
himself, took up another notch in his belt and made 
sure that plenty of cartridges were handy in his 
gun-belt. 

Ten minutes later the party clattered away from 
the corral and sped across the range, moving toward 
the ford across Cougar Creek. It was in this direc¬ 
tion, Pink Sellers said, that Forest had gone. 

In a short time the sun left them and the soft 


180 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Arizona night came on, but a night that was light 
and faery. Brilliant, low-hanging stars of startling 
luster popped into the cerulean blue and lighted 
their way; the moon came up out of the east and 
lent its golden splendor to the occasion, casting 
a glow over the countryside that made even the 
shadows of the tuft grass visible. 

64 1 shore am glad there’s a full moon,” said 
Clive, 44 for we can even see pony tracks if we 
have to look for ’em, now.” 

Swiftly they urged their horses along, Clive set¬ 
ting a stiff pace with Thunder. They watched the 
way closely for signs that might guide them on 
Forest’s trail, but found nothing that would help 
them. At the ford, however, they came upon evi¬ 
dence a-plenty. 

The sorrel mare, a bullet in its brain, lay under 
the willow clump beside the road, saddled and 
bridled, just as it had fallen. The road showed 
signs of excited tramping of many hoofs and an 
occasional mark left by a high-heeled boot was 
visible. Clive dismounted and dropped on his 
hands and knees, crawling about. After five 
minutes he rose and said: 

44 They got her, all right. I don’t know who, 
though. It happened early, I reckon; probably as 
soon as she struck the ford. I be’n huntin’ to see if 
I could find which way the dirty skunks went after 
takin’ her, and near as I can figger it out, they cut 
up long Cougar Creek, through these willers. 
Leastwise, all these tracks leave the road about fifty 


FOREST DISAPPEARS 


181 


feet back, and I follered ’em through the soft dirt 
that breaks all along yere. We might as well start 
up the Cougar, too. Keep yore eyes peeled, for 
we got to look for signs from now on.” 

Now that his worst fears were confirmed as 
realities, now that he knew Forest had met with 
untoward adventure, if not actual foul play, Clive’s 
face grew tense and gray and little lines set at the 
corners of his mouth. His riders grew silent and 
Two-Gun’s eyes were literally green pools of flame. 
Quietly, but with a deadly precision, they headed 
their ponies upstream. 

The shadows were thick among the willow trunks 
and frequently Clive or Two-Gun swung from the 
saddle and peered intently at the ground. Each 
time there followed the order to keep going. After 
a time, Blaze Ormsby pulled up suddenly and 
called in a low tone: 

64 Just a minute, Clive; I’ve found something.” 

He reached out a hand toward a drooping willow 
branch and drew it back, holding something in it. 
He rode up to Clive and held it out. 

64 If I am not mistaken, Clive,” he said gravely, 
44 this is a piece of the scarlet ribbon Miss Forest 
wore in a bow on her shirt front, just where she 
turned the collar in.” 

Clive and Two-Gun examined the bit of silk. 
Both knew Blaze was probably right in his surmise. 
Either the girl had intentionally left this as a 
marker or her neck ribbon had caught on the pro¬ 
jecting willow branch as she was carried past it. 


182 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Clive carefully placed the tell-tale bit of silk in 
the breast pocket of his shirt. 

Now positive of their direction and satisfied they 
were on the trail of the missing girl, they rode for¬ 
ward at accelerated pace, Clive, Two-Gun and 
Ormsby leading, with Monte, Shad, Spud Garrett 
and Bull Ellerby close behind. The others fol¬ 
lowed as closely as they could. 

64 We’re a-goin’ to be plumb across the Box 0 
in a minnit or two,” opined Bull, 44 and a-headin’ 
across the Crazy H. I wonder where they took 
that gal?” 

44 We’ll know afore we turn back,” Clive prom¬ 
ised grimly. Two-Gun nodded in corroboration. 

Two-Gun was now riding slightly in advance. 
Ever since Ormsby had discovered the bit of flam¬ 
ing ribbon, Farrell had been scanning the ground 
and the willows on either side of them closely. 
Now, of a sudden, he pulled in and dropped from 
his saddle, stooping. When he straightened up, he 
held another bit of the ribbon, and passed it along 
for inspection. 

44 Bless her game little heart,” exclaimed 
Ormsby. 44 She’s intentionally leaving markers for 
us — blazing the trail, as it were. Brave, thought¬ 
ful girl; didn’t lose her head and would not permit 
the seriousness of her plight to frighten her into en¬ 
tire submission. She must have watched cleverly 
for opportunities to leave these bits of ribbon be¬ 
hind her.” 

In the next hour they found three more pieces 


FOREST DISAPPEARS 


183 


of the scarlet silk and, after a time, they came 
upon a piece of white, evidently torn from her 
handkerchief. 

Then they lost the trail. It was Two-Gun, his 
green-filmed eyes constantly seeking, who picked 
it up again, fifty yards back, where it turned 
abruptly into the stream. The opposite bank gave 
no indication that the horses had emerged there and 
after a consultation it was decided the pursued 
had continued up the stream, keeping to the water 
to hide their horses’ tracks, for the creek was 
only a shallow brook this far up the valley. 

With riders on either bank watching for the trail 
to emerge, they continued up the creek. The signs 
from the girl were no longer found and shortly 
after midnight, having traversed the entire width 
of the Box 0, and a portion of the Crazy H, they 
found themselves staring at a sixty-foot waterfall 
that tumbled out of the mountains at a point where 
Cougar Creek began its winding course through 
the valley. 

Baffled, they discussed the situation hurriedly. 
A score of guesses were offered as to why they 
had lost the trail, the most plausible being that 
they had overlooked it, despite the brilliance of 
the moon and the softer glow of the stars. In the 
end, it seemed the only thing to do was to go back 
and seek once more where the trail left the creek, 
so they turned downstream, eyes more alert than 
ever. 

Eventually they came to where the bit of white 


184 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


had been found and the trail turned into the water. 
But not once had they found a sign that it had left 
the creek. 

66 It does beat hell,” exclaimed Honey Malloy, 
64 where they coulda gone to. There ain’t a sign 
of ’em between here and that waterfall, and I don’t 
reckon there’s anything could go up that catyract; 
not even a salmon, which same I’ve seen jump a 
eighteen-foot fall; yes, seen ’em with muh own 
eyes.” 

64 We ain’t a-disputin’ about the damn’ salmon,” 
rasped Clive. 44 What We want to do is find where 
them damn’ buzzards has took Forest.” 

He was wild with grief and worry, realizing for 
the first time how great was the all-pervading love 
he bore for the girl. His heart was like lead and 
his brain was afire. Only Ormsby surmised his 
true condition and he laid a quick, sympathetic 
hand on Clive’s arm. 

44 They won’t kill her, old timer,” he said gently. 
44 1 rather imagine their game is to endeavor to 
make her agree to sell out, or something like that. 
Or, perhaps they will hold her as sort of hostage 
to compel us to get out. But, really, I don’t think 
we need fear for her physical well-being.” 

Clive was grateful for the words and the cheer¬ 
ful hope they expressed, but his worries and grief 
would not ease. He looked at his riders, noting 
that all awaited his lead. Swiftly, he resolved 
on the only course left, and said: 

44 Just on a chance that they went that-a-way, 


FOREST DISAPPEARS 


185 


Shad and Bull and Monte and all you Lazy X 
men ride downstream on the other side. The 
rest of us’ll take this side. It might be them buz¬ 
zards turned downstream ’stead of up, and come 
this far to throw us off the trail.” 

And so the search was resumed. In the fullness 
of time the ford was reached once more. Forest’s 
dead mare still lay under the willow clump, and 
Clive made another search of the vicinity. But the 
best he could learn was that the riders had turned 
from the road fifty feet from the stream, thence 
ridden directly up the creek, in the direction they 
had just come from. 

Two-Gun spurred close to Clive, his green eyes 
somber and fretful. 

66 We can’t call things quits here, Tex; I got a 
idee we might pick up something if we ride down¬ 
stream from here. Me, I’m a-goin’ that-a-way, 
too. Leave the forces divided as they are, and 
let’s go, cowboy.” 

Clive gave the order and the search started, 
but not a man among them save, perhaps, Two- 
Gun, felt anything would come of the ride in this 
direction. All save Farrell felt that the solution 
to the mystery of Forest’s disappearance lay up¬ 
stream, toward the waterfall. But they went at 
their task grimly and with an earnestness that spoke 
volumes. Left hands held reins lightly, while 
right hands never swayed far from ugly-looking 
gun-butts. 

It was Two-Gun who made the discovery. Rid- 


186 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


ing easily, eyes now on the ground, now on the 
willow branches, he suddenly threw himself from 
the saddle and picked up a tiny piece of scarlet 
silk, holding it aloft. 

66 1 reckon I had the right idee, Clive,” he called 
softly. 66 She’s a-goin’ this-a-way, all right. I 
reckon she used that piece of white back there 
’stead of red ribbon to try and tell us somethin’ had 
happened there, and we was all too damn’ dumb to 
onderstand. Here’s her red ribbon ag’in. I 
reckon that proves we’re a-goin’ in the right direc¬ 
tion once more.” 

66 But where’s the trail?” asked Spud Garrett. 

66 1 reckon it’s in the water, Spud,” Two-Gun 
answered gravely. 44 Yuh can ride this dang’ 
Cougar Creek from one end of the valley to t’other, 
I reckon, it’s so shaller. Look-a here, and yuh’ll 
see the gal used several hair-pins to make this hefty 
enough to fly through the air. I reckon she just 
nacherally throwed it ashore when she passed here. 
Come on, let’s speed up.” 

After a time they reached the line of the Swing¬ 
ing J, where the creek crossed it. Clive cursed bit¬ 
terly. 

44 They actually took her right back across her 
own ranch. Hell, but they got nerve. Well, I 
reckon that settles where she is, then. They either 
got her at Bender’s or she’s be’n switched over to 
the Diamond L. Ain’t no other ranches down this- 
a-way ’cept the Circle C, and Bud Hart ain’t in 
with this valley bunch none whatever.” 


FOREST DISAPPEARS 


187 


They followed the stream across the entire width 
of the Swinging J and then, a half mile after they 
had started over Bender’s ranch they found where 
the trail left the water. But a new problem pre¬ 
sented itself. The trail split, then split again and 
again. Hoof prints led off toward Bender’s; others 
pointed straight down the stream; some led toward 
the Swinging J and still others turned in the direc¬ 
tion of the Diamond L. 

Once again it was the girl, aided by Two-Gun’s 
acumen, that was responsible for a clue. A tiny 
bit of white lay on the ground, along the trail that 
started toward Bender’s. Two-Gun picked it up, 
handed it to Clive, and declared: 

66 See that? ’Member back up the creek when 
we found the other white one? It meant there was 
a change in the trail, that they wasn’t a-goin’ in 
the direction we figgered a-tall. Well, I take it 
she left this white one here to mean the same thing, 
by cripes.” 

Clive’s face lighted swiftly. 

64 1 betcha yo’re right, Two-Gun,” he exclaimed, 
66 and that bein’ the case we was all a-figgerin’ she 
was a-bein’ took to Bender’s place, which proba’ly 
ain’t the case a-tall. Well, we’ll foller these tracks 
to the Diamond L and see what happens. C’mon.” 
He was off like a streak, the others following close 
behind him. 

It seemed that Two-Gun was right in his surmise 
for they had gone only a short distance when they 
found another bit of flaming silk. A little song 


188 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


sprung up in Clive’s heart, a song of mad themes. 
One had to do with hate and lust and the desire for 
battle; then there was another that had to do with a 
thirst for vengeance; a third, and last, had to do 
with a great and passionate and all-consuming love 
he bore the girl. 

It was barely dawn when they approached the 
Diamond L. They had found three more bits of 
the girl’s neck ribbon, then there had been no 
more. The trail was plain now and either Forest 
had decided to take no further chances in dropping 
the path-markers, or her captors had increased their 
vigilance and made it impossible. 

All were showing signs of the terrific strain they 
had labored under. When, as the sun peeped over 
the distant Mogollons, and they drew up in plain 
sight of the Diamond L ranch house, Clive cried to 
his men: 

64 1 reckon we’ll find Forest in there, boys.” 
His voice was level and hard. 44 1 reckon, too, 
it’s up to us to get her away from ’em. Mebbe 
they figger we won’t find their trail, and mebbe 
they don’t. Leastwise, I sorta surmise there is apt 
to be a fight when we ride up and asks ’em for the 
girl. If there’s anybody in this bunch that don’t 
want to go through with this to a finish, I want to 
know it now, for I’m a-goin’ after them fellers 
hell-bent; if they show fight I’m a-goin’ to blister 
’em proper, and I don’t want any half-hearted 
backin’ up. I want every one of yuh that’s with me 
to sling yore guns as fast as they come at yuh, and 


FOREST DISAPPEARS 


189 


put so much lead in ’em that they’ll sink right into 
the yearth from the weight of it.” 

66 Ride ’em, cowboy,” Pink Sellers shouted. 
66 We’re all with yuh to the last dang’ flea on old 
Bull Ellerby’s haid.” 

66 1 ain’t got no fleas, yuh onery skunk,” rasped 
Bull. 66 Go on, Tex; start the fireworks whenever 
yuh damn’ please.” 

The silence of death hovered over the Diamond 
L ranch house as Clive and his party drummed into 
the yard. It was as though the occupants had not 
yet risen to greet the new-born day. The house 
was closed up tightly and the shades were drawn 
inside the windows. 

Clive let out a hail. Almost instantly there 
came proof that there was life inside, for a voice 
cried: 

46 You fellers get out of here. If yuh come to 
raid this place, yo’re a-goin’ to get hurt. I got 
plenty of guns and men in here and yo’re shore 
goin’ to eat some lead if yuh try any stunts here 
like yuh pulled on old Horner’s barn.” 

44 You send out that gal right away, and in con¬ 
sideration of same I’ll agree yuh won’t get hurt 
none, now,” said Clive. 46 If we have to come and 
take her out-a there, I reckon yo’re a-goin’ to be 
plumb downright sorry.” 

44 What gal yuh talkin’ about?” the voice que¬ 
ried. 

44 Yuh know damn’ well I mean Miss Glade of 
the Swingin’ J,” Clive said firmly. 


190 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


66 1 ain’t seen her, never did see her and what’s 
more I don’t want to see her,” the voice came back. 

“ Perhaps the man is speaking the truth, Clive,” 
said Blaze. “ It is best that we make certain, I 
think.” 

66 Truth, hell,” exclaimed Clive. 66 What’s he 
got the place all shut up for that-a-way if he’s 
tellin’ the truth? Answer me that question, will 
yuh?” 

44 I imagine we can learn easily whether he is 
telling things with a straight tongue,” said the cool¬ 
brained Ormsby. 66 Let’s go to the corral and see 
if we can find any horses there that have water 
marks or mud in their hair. If we do, then it is 
pretty conclusive evidence that the man inside is a 
liar, I would say.” 

In the corral they found a half-dozen horses, all 
bearing unmistakable signs of having recently been 
in the water. They were dry, but mud still clung 
to legs and also spotted sides and bellies of the 
animals. Just above where the stirrups would 
reach there was a water-line and the hair was 
matted and stiff from that point down to the ani¬ 
mals’ hoofs. Either the riders had forgotten to 
rub the horses down, or had not thought they were 
leaving telltale evidence behind. 

44 I would say, after calm consideration, those 
signs tell us all that we need to know,” said Ormsby 
grimly, following Clive back toward the ranch 
house. 

64 Hello, inside,” Clive yelled. 


FOREST DISAPPEARS 


191 


46 What the hell do yuh want now?” came the 
questioning reply. 

44 We got positive evidence Miss Glade’s in yore 
house, and we’re a-goin’ to take her out of there 
if we have to tear down every damn’ board yuh 
got.” 

The spang of a six-gun answered them. The 
bullet struck Pink Sellers’ horse in the nose, just 
as the animal threw up its head in an effort to dis¬ 
lodge a fly. The act probably saved Pink from 
getting the slug in his chest. As the horse dropped, 
Pink landed on his feet, gun in hand, letting it spout 
a hail of lead toward an upstairs window whence 
the first shot had come. 

44 Hunt cover,” Clive cried, and led a dash 
around the bunkhouse. As they rounded it a hail 
of bullets splattered against the boards and dug up 
the earth, but the only casualty was a gash on the 
rump of the horse Bull was riding. Back of the 
bunkhouse they dismounted and tethered their 
horses. 


CHAPTER XIV 

The Fight at the Ranch 

Day had broken across the mountains and the hot 
Arizona sun poured its brilliant rays over the scene. 
Hurriedly Clive called a council of war. 

44 There ain’t no use in us wastin’ bullets in them 
walls,” he told them. 64 We got to devise some 
scheme to get them fellers out of there and to get 
ourselves inside. Anybody got a suggestion?” 

It seemed that everybody had. Chief among the 
ideas set forth was a plan for all to storm the house 
and crash their way inside, routing the occupants 
at the points of revolvers. But this did not meet 
with Clive’s approval; he did not want to lose any 
of his comrades if he could avoid it. 

44 No, I don’t reckon we want to do that,” he 
said finally. 44 Hell, I wish we could set fire to the 
damn’ place. That shore would send ’em sky- 
hootin’ out of there like a bunch of dawgs with 
tin cans tied to their tails. Wonder if we could? 
They’d have to get out and I reckon they’d bring 
Forest with ’em. Nobody but a dirty Injun would 
think of leavin’ a gal behind to burn; leastwise 
that’s how I feel about it.” 

44 Your suggestion of fire is a little cold-blooded, 
Clive,” Ormsby said. 44 Yet, I think it is scientifi¬ 
cally the best plan. I don’t imagine there is a 
192 


THE FIGHT AT THE RANCH 193 


man in the entire valley who would think for an in¬ 
stant of permitting a helpless girl to burn to death, 
even were he evil-minded enough to wish to do so. 
Killing a woman would be far more serious for 
them than shooting a few of us punchers; therefore, 
I vote in favor of firing the house and taking a 
chance on getting Miss Forest safely out of what¬ 
ever follows.” 

66 But how in hell are we goin’ to get close 
enough to set fire to the damn’ place?” rasped 
Pink, fuming over the loss of his horse and already 
seeing in his mind’s eye the Diamond L animal that 
he would pick out to replace it. 

44 We’re gathered here to thresh this out,” Clive 
reminded him. 46 Now, all of yuh think yore 
damnedest and think quick. Me, I’m a-goin’ to 
do some thinkin’ muhse’f.” 

Two-Gun Farrell, gazing off toward the barn, 
suddenly had an inspiration and whispered to 
Shad. The latter nodded in violent approval and 
turned to Clive. 

44 Say, Tex,” he said in a low voice, 44 Two-Gun’s 
just had a idee and him and me’s goin’ to try it out. 
See that wagon over there by the barn? Well, 
him and me’s goin’ to fill it up with hay or straw or 
whatever we can find over that-a-way and push it 
up ag’in’ that house. When we get the wagon bang 
up ag’in’ the wall we’ll set ’er afire and skedaddle 
hell-bent out of the way, and I don’t know as there’s 
any easier way of gettin’ that pile of boards 
a-burnin’.” 


194 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Ormsby thumped Two-Gun on the back, admira¬ 
tion glowing in his frank eyes. 

66 You’re a wizard, Two-Gun; a man after my 
own heart. You old son of a gun, you have been 
the king-pin of this party ever since we started 
to find Miss Forest and now you’ve capped the 
climax with a corking idea. I’m in favor of it 
on one condition — that I go along and help.” 

“ That shore is a fine idee,” said Clive, 66 and I 
reckon yuh’ll need some help to push that big, 
heavy wagon along. Blaze and me’ll both go with 
yuh, and dang muh hide if we don’t get that place 
to burnin’ in a jiffy.” 

It was decided that Pink Sellers and Spud Gar¬ 
rett also would assist, then Clive addressed a part¬ 
ing word to the others, speaking directly to Bull 
Ellerby. 

66 Bull, you fellers get a line on some of them 
winders and blaze away. I don’t reckon they got 
Forest in the line of fire, but send yore first shots 
high, so that if she is in one of them rooms the 
bullets won’t hit her. After yuh locate where she 
is, or get no results, use yore own judgment, only, 
for cripe’s sake, don’t shoot onless yo’re sartin she 
ain’t in front of yore guns.” 

Bull opened the ball by emptying his gun 
through one of the downstairs windows. At the 
first jingling crash of broken glass a veritable 
fusillade broke out from the house and bullets 
spattered against the bunkhouse walls like hail on 
a stubble field. 


THE FIGHT AT THE RANCH 195 


64 1 reckon that waked ’em up,” chuckled Bull, 
delighted with the result. 

Cautiously Clive, Two-Gun, Blaze and the others 
crept off. Between the bunkhouse and the stately 
row of cottonwoods that paralleled the ranch yard 
was a vacant space, fifty feet wide. To gain the 
trees and thus make the barn under their cover this 
space had to be crossed, and every foot of it in 
the vicinity of the bunkhouse was commanded by 
the guns inside the Diamond L ranch house. Shad 
peered across the intervening width and declared: 

66 1 reckon there ain’t anything better to do than 
blaze away, so here goes.” Before Clive could 
stop him the valiant Stevens had dashed out across 
the open space and scudded under the over-reach¬ 
ing limbs of the giant cottonwoods. He reached 
these before those in the house, surprised by his 
daring, could turn their guns on him. From his 
vantage point he called: 

66 Don’t you fellers all run over in a bunch. 
Scatter and come fast. I reckon yuh’ll make it; 
only, be careful, ’cause I ’spect they’ll be a-watchin’ 
for yuh now.” 

46 Yuh think we’re plumb damn’ fools?” snorted 
Spud Garrett. 44 1 reckon we wasn’t borned yes¬ 
terday. Yuh want to see how I’m a-comin’ over 
there? Well, here’s how.” 

On the instant he gave a prodigious leap, turned 
a hand-spring, flopped on the ground, rolled over 
and over, then rose, head down, knees pumping 
swiftly. In a trice he made the cottonwoods. A 


196 THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 

score of bullets kicked up the dirt where he had 
crossed. 

66 That was one they wasn’t ’spectin’,” chortled 
Spud. 66 Ain’t none of ’em ever had no practice 
a-shootin’ at anythin’ travellin’ like that, I reckon. 
Thought I was a side-winder, more’n likely. Well,” 
he called across to the others, 66 hop to it, you 
fellers, we’re a-waitin’.” 

Two-Gun Farrell had watched silently while 
Shad and Spud made the cottonwoods, his eyes flar¬ 
ing greenly, admiringly. Now he turned to Clive. 

66 1 reckon the next feller that crosses is due 
to get hit, Tex,” he said. 44 Them birds’ll be 
watchin’ close and prob’ly they’ve got their guns 
at a level to sweep the whole shebang. I reckon we 
got to Agger another way to cross, ’less we want to 
take onnecessary chances of pickin’ up some lead.” 

64 1 think yo’re right, Two-Gun. What yuh got 
on yore mind?” 

64 1 was thinkin’ if we go straight down this road 
a-piece, keepin’ the bunkhouse atween us and their 
guns, we can get far enough out that we won’t be 
in much danger from their lead. Then we can 
cross and come down behind them cottonwoods.” 

Without replying Clive turned and led the way, 
the others close behind him. A hundred yards 
back they made a sudden dash and were safely 
behind the outlying trees before the Arst shots of 
the besieged Diamond L outAt came toward them. 
Hastily, they joined Shad and Spud. 

Keeping the trees between themselves and the 


THE FIGHT AT THE RANCH 197 


house they worked down toward the barn. At the 
same time Bull Ellerby directing the campaign 
from the bunkhouse, ordered a constant fire main¬ 
tained against the beleaguered inmates of the ranch 
house. Once, when it seemed their ruse was not 
going to hold the attention of those within, the dar¬ 
ing Bull, followed by Monte McCourt, Lonesome 
Hines, Jingle Jones and Mojave Evans, dashed 
from their shelter as though to storm the house. 

They stopped short ten feet distant and scurried 
back behind the building, beating the Diamond L 
bullets by a hair. But the maneuver had gained 
what they sought. Those inside, fearful now that 
if they deserted their posts a raid would follow and 
result in their capture, kept constant vigil at the 
windows. A few, Bull surmised, had been sent to 
the other side of the house to keep a lookout on 
what Clive and his comrades were doing at the 
rear. 

Wyoming Red Hargrave suddenly scrambled 
from his recumbent position behind Bull Ellerby 
and pulled himself through a bunkhouse window, 
disappearing inside. Silk Kingsbury, watching 
him, murmured: 

66 Now, what in hell is that dang’ bow-laiged hop¬ 
toad up to now?” 

An instant later the grinning face of Wyoming 
was back at the window and he called: 

66 You fellers come in here, some of yuh. We 
can get to the other end of this shebang and rake 
the whole damn’ end of that house through these 


198 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


winders. Yuh can’t reach that part of the house 
from out there, but yuh shore can raise hell from 
in here. ’Bout five of yuh come a-runnin’.” 

Bull waved his hand and Lazy Turner, Piute 
Allen, Mojave, Brindle Thorp and Hokum Smith 
crawled within and joined Wyoming. A minute 
later a blast of firing inside the bunkhouse and 
startled yells from the ranch house apprised them 
that Wyoming had originated an idea well worth¬ 
while. 

A voice from the house let out a yell, then 
shouted: 

44 Hey, you fellers out there; get out and let us 
alone. We ain’t got that dang’ gal yo’re a-talkin’ 
about, and don’t know nothin’ about ’er. We’re 
just nacherally goin’ to chaw yuh up if yuh keep 
on shootin’ at us.” 

46 1 reckon yo’re a damn’ liar,” Bull’s hoarse 
voice roared back, 44 and as far as the chawin’s con¬ 
cerned just go ahaid and chaw away and be danged 
to yuh.” 

As though this were a signal for redoubled 
activities the firing from the house became intense. 
None of the Swinging J riders could put his head 
around the bunkhouse and keep it, and even those 
inside were forced to do their firing through the 
windows with extreme caution. 

Meantime, down at the barn, Clive and his little 
force had jockeyed the wagon around and were 
piling it high with dry range grass, cut sometime 
previously for hay. Pitchforks were wielded with 


THE FIGHT AT THE RANCH 199 


feverish energy and finally Two-Gun, who had 
been setting the pace, said: 

66 1 reckon that’s all she’ll hold, Tex, and it seems 
to me we got enough grass on there to set fire to 
the whole dang’ valley. Turn them wheels and 
let’s get a-goin’.” 

Shad and Spud grabbed the wagon tongue and 
began circling it around toward the house when 
Clive cautioned: 

44 That ain’t no way to do, yuh pore idjuts. 
Who’s a-goin’ to walk in front and guide the 
damned thing? I don’t reckon any of us is. No, 
sir-ee, Bob. We’re a-goin’ to send that wagon 
along rear-end foremost and we’ll push from the 
back, guidin’ ’er from the back, too.” 

Clive took the end of the tongue while the others 
got in close to the wagon and pushed mightily. 
Under their combined efforts it moved easily and 
began heading rapidly toward the house. 

A shout and a burst of shots apprised them 
that their ruse had been discovered and soon bullets 
were spraying the wagon like hail, while wisps 
of hay, cut by the flying lead, soared from the 
piled up load and drifted gently to the ground. 
But the bulk of the wagon and its towering load 
protected those behind it and they pushed their 
burden along steadily. 

44 The worst thing about this will be gettin’ away 
from the house after we set this wagon on fire,” 
opined Shad. 

44 1 rather imagine we shall do some tall and 


200 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


fancy sidestepping if we dodge their bullets,” 
agreed Ormsby. 

Two-Gun Farrell said nothing, but his mighty 
muscles bunched as he heaved his share of the load 
along. Clive, guiding with the tongue, sensed 
they were close to the house, and called: 

“ A couple more heaves and we’ll be plumb up 
ag’in ’er, boys. When she hits everybody strike 
matches and chuck ’em into that hay and as she 
starts to burn run like four kinds of hell.” 

66 And in as many different directions,” grunted 
Two-Gun, breaking his silence. 

With a crash that jarred them the wagon col¬ 
lided with the house. Clive had already deserted 
the tongue and joined the others, since the end of 
the pole was exposed to gun fire and bullets had 
begun to patter around it. Now, huddled close 
to the shelter of the vehicle, all drew matches and 
almost as a unit struck them on the undersides of 
their chaps. 

As each match flared its holder reached up and 
tossed it into the hay. In a trice the dry and sea¬ 
soned range grass turned into a raging inferno of 
towering flames and heat. 

66 It’s every man for himself, now,” Clive cried, 
and he started on a zigzagging run toward the 
corner of the house that had not come under fire 
of the guns of the Swinging J. The others, for¬ 
getting their plan to scatter in different directions, 
followed him swiftly. 

There is a destiny that guides the lives of all 


THE FIGHT AT THE RANCH 201 


who woo the goddess of adventure. This was dem¬ 
onstrated now. The end of the house they found, 
as they rounded it, to be blind, minus doors or win¬ 
dows. They were, therefore, as safe in its shel¬ 
ter as if they had been at home on the Swinging J 
and fast asleep in their bunks. 

Bull Ellerby saw them and his heavy voice 
roared: 

46 We’ll send some lead that-a-way, Tex, and yuh 
can chase this-a-way while they’re a-duckin’ our 
bullets.” 

They saw him turn as though passing an order, 
then a veritable sheet of flame burst from the bunk- 
house and bullets sang like flies against the walls 
of the ranch building, through windows and doors 
and all around. Under cover of this fusillade 
Clive and his companions dashed on a crooked run 
toward Ellerby. So effective was the Swinging J 
covering fire that those within the house were 
unable to plant a telling shot; and the five made the 
bunkhouse unharmed. 

By now a great pillar of smoke was rising from 
behind the house and they knew the hay had 
burned down and set fire to the building. The 
wagon, too, was ablaze, and it would be a matter 
of only a short time until the occupants of the 
doomed domicile would be forced to dash out. 
Eagerly they watched. Two-Gun cried suddenly: 

64 The rear — watch the rear.” 

44 What do yuh see?” asked Clive. 

44 Nothin’ yet, but them birds could go out that- 


202 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


a-way and get plumb off from us, I reckon,” Two- 
Gun answered. 

On the instant Farrell dashed away. The firing 
from within the house had ceased as the flames 
became an angry menace. Clive sensed that ef¬ 
forts were being made to stifle the blaze and he 
knew that this would be impossible; he turned and 
followed Two-Gun, with Ormsby and Pink Sellers 
at his heels. 

Gaining the cottonwoods, they scurried rapidly 
down toward the barn, pausing where they could 
obtain an unobstructed view of all the rear exits of 
the house. They saw men tumbling through two 
rear doors. The remainder of the Swinging J 
raiders now hastened up, guns ready for quick 
pky. 

Over past the barn a drumming of hoofs split 
the air. Clive wondered if someone were ap¬ 
proaching and voiced the question aloud to Two- 
Gun. Farrell, listening an instant, responded: 

66 Nope, Tex, that’s somebody ridin’ away from 
here hell-bent. I reckon some of them birds got 
out, lit on their hosses and are a-foggin’ off across 
there to find help or make their get-away.” 

He lifted his silver-mounted six-guns and sent 
a shower of bullets toward those who were exiting 
from the house. A shouted order from Clive 
brought the remaining guns of the Swinging J into 
action, then the Diamond L outfit gave in. 

Eleven men, including ancient and grizzled Cief 
Pence, ostensible owner of the ranch, threw down 


THE FIGHT AT THE RANCH 203 


their guns and stood sullen and quiet the while 
Clive walked up to them. 

The ranch house was doomed and burning 
fiercely. The heat was so intense they were forced 
to move back nearly to the barn, then Clive, ad¬ 
dressing Pence, said: 

44 Where’s the gal, yuh damn’ old crow? Tell 
me quick, afore I kick the livin’ everlastin’ day¬ 
lights out of yuh.” 

Old Pence mouthed venomously, his scrubby 
chin whiskers bobbing like blades of wheat in a 
wind storm. 

66 1 told yuh we didn’t have no gal here, damn’ 
yuh. I reckon yo’re a-goin’ to pay a heap of 
money for burnin’ muh house, too. I’ll have the 
law on yuh for this if it’s the last thing I ever do.” 

Clive, beside himself with worry and fear for the 
safety of Forest, shoved the old scoundrel aside 
and dashed for the blazing building, his voice lifted 
in a shout: 

66 Forest! Forest! Forest! Are you in there?” 

Only the roar of the flames answered him. Two- 
Gun Farrell walked over to Pence and grasped him 
by the shoulders. His green-flaring eyes bored 
into the sullen countenance of the Diamond L man. 
He rasped: 

46 Tell me, Pence; is the gal in that house?” 

Under the terrible menace in Two-Gun’s face, 
Pence quailed and his own countenance went white. 
He mumbled in a low voice: 

46 S’help me Godfrey, she ain’t in that house. 


204 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Yuh don’t think I’d let anybody, even a dang’ 
Piute Injun, stay in a house and be burned up, 
do yuh?” 

Truth was in his voice and shown in his eyes. 
Two-Gun dropped his hands from Pence’s shoul¬ 
ders and hurried to where Clive was still calling 
frantically and endeavoring to find a way to enter 
the holocaust. 

44 Don’t, Tex,” he said gently, grasping Clive by 
the arm. 46 1 reckon yo’re a-barkin’ up the wrong 
tree, old timer. I’ll stake muh life Miss Forest 
ain’t in there. I just asked Pence, private-like, and 
he said she ain’t. Don’t ask me how I know, but 
I’m tellin’ yuh he shore did speak the truth.” 

Clive turned grief-stricken eyes and a haggard 
face on Two-Cun. 44 Then, for Cod’s sake, Two- 
Gun, tell me where she is?” 

Two-Gun was in a quandary. Clive was on the 
verge of breaking down under the terrific strain 
he was enduring; not a physical breakdown, but 
a nervous reaction that might be worse. He 
thought swiftly, seeking for something he might 
say and turn Clive’s thoughts off on a new angle. 

Like a flash he recalled the drumming hoof-beats 
they had heard; swiftly he had an inspiration. He 
looked sharply at Clive: 

44 1 reckon they had her here, old timer, but 
they got her away. Yuh remember them runnin’ 
hosses we heard? Well, I betcha if we set out 
after ’em and ketch ’em we’ll find yore gal, all 
top-side high and safe.” 


THE FIGHT AT THE RANCH 205 


“Lord forgive me for tellin’ any such damn’ 
lie to Clive,” he murmured to himself immediately 
after he saw the flare of hope that lighted Clive’s 
eyes swiftly. “ I had to do it, though, ’cause he 
was gettin’ ready to crack under the strain. Any¬ 
how, dang it, mebbe I might be right.” 

Gently he forced Clive back toward the others, 
talking to him soothingly, much as a mother might 
talk to her child. As they came back to where 
Shad, Bull and the rest were standing, Two-Gun 
saw Ormsby strike Pence a violent blow on the 
chin, then, as the old man fell prone, calmly extract 
a thick package of papers from his pocket and 
transfer it to his own. Two-Gun wondered at 
Ormsby’s action, but held his tongue. 

Ormsby gave Two-Gun a meaning look and Far¬ 
rell immediately assumed charge of the situation. 

“ I reckon you Diamond L birds know we mean 
business by this time,” he said. “ Now, we’re a- 
goin’ to leave yuh here to do as yuh damn’ please, 
but if yuh’ll take my advice yuh’ll get to hell out 
of the Cottonwood Valley and hunt jobs with honest 
men. I reckon old Pence, there, can do as he 
pleases about stayin’ or leavin’.” He turned to 
the Swinging J riders. “ Boys, I reckon we’re 
a-goin’ to hit it off toward the hills. I heard hosses 
a-runnin’ that-a-way and I wouldn’t be su’prised if 
we found one of them geezers got away and has 
taken Miss Forest with him. Leastwise, we’re a- 
goin’ to find out.” 

Old Pence scrambled weakly to his feet and 
glared at Two-Gun. 


206 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


46 1 hope to hell yuh ketch ’em, then. That’s 
Cougar Evans on one of them hosses and he’ll shore 
pulverize anybody that tries to take ’im.” 

Evidently Pence had not missed the papers 
Ormsby had taken from his pocket, for he did not 
mention them. One of the Diamond L riders, how¬ 
ever, quickly cried: 

44 When yuh had yore row with this bozo, Pence, 
and he socked yuh on the chin, I reckon he picked 
yore pockets while yuh was sorta knocked out like. 
I saw him grab some papers outa yore coat.” 

Pence’s face whitened swiftly and a look of ter¬ 
ror came into his eyes as his hand swiftly sought 
his pocket and came away empty. Pantingly he 
came to his knees, crawling like a dog to Ormsby’s 
feet. He turned his face upward, all his bravado 
and insolence gone. Only terror and supplication 
now flared from his eyes and he grasped Blaze 
about the knees, pleadingly. 

44 Mister, for Lord’s sake, don’t take them papers. 
Honest, they ain’t mine. My gosh, man, if yuh 
don’t gimme ’em back I’ll be killed; gimme ’em, 
Mister, and I’ll never say a word about yore burn- 
in’ muh house or a damn’ thing. Oh, for cripe’s 
sake, don’t take ’em from me.” 

44 If you were an honest man, or if I felt that 
you could be trusted I would gladly return them to 
you, Pence,” Ormsby said gravely, unmoved by 
the other’s plea. 44 But you have been stringing 
along with a band of crooks and I believe the 
papers contain information that is vital to us. I 


THE FIGHT AT THE RANCH 207 


will do this, however; seeing that I took them from 
you forcibly, I promise you that in case there is 
anything in them that might incriminate you per¬ 
sonally, I shall see you are not molested.” 

For an instant Pence looked relieved, then he 
let out a yell: 

“ But Henley’ll have me killed; he’ll-” 

66 Shut up, yuh damn’ fool,” rasped a burly 
Diamond L rider. 46 Yo’re a-talkin’ too much.” 

Pence dropped his head, his face twisted in a 
hopeless grimace. 

44 1 reckon I am,” he muttered, then fell to cry¬ 
ing, like any woman might have done. 

Two-Gun spoke up: 

44 Come on, we’re a-goin’ in the direction them 
hosses took.” 

Ormsby had an inspiration. He drew Pence 
aside where the others could not hear. 

44 Listen, Pence,” he said softly, 44 1 know that 
you are one of the Henley lieutenants here in the 
Cottonwood Valley and that you have been helping 
to carry out their law-breaking orders. I believe 
the letters I took from you contain evidence that 
will help us to smash them. Now, if you will 
answer me just one question, and answer truly, I 
promise you that you shall not be harmed in any 
way whatsoever, not even by the Henley crowd, or 
if you prefer, you may have ample time to get 
thoroughly clear of this whole country before I 
use the letters. What say?” 

44 What’s yore question?” mumbled Pence, wet- 



208 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


ting his parched lips with his tongue and cringing 
before the fire in Ormsby’s eyes. 

66 Was Miss Glade with Cougar Evans when he 
ducked from the burning house and rode off toward 
the hills?” 

Old Pence considered the question carefully, 
then said: 

66 I’m a-takin’ yore word, Mister, about them let¬ 
ters and muh own welfare, and I’ll answer yuh this 
once; she was with him, shore enough, with a gag 
over her mouth and her hands tied behind her. 
Now, let me go.” 


CHAPTER XV 

Clive Takes the Trail 

Ormsby turned from Pence and joined Clive on 
the instant. 

44 I guess our work lies ahead of us, old man, 
back among the mountains. Old Pence says 
Cougar Evans has Miss Forest and that he rode 
away with her gagged and bound. It’s up to us 
to get her.” 

A terrible look came into Clive’s face at 
Ormsby’s words. It was as though his features 
had become a marble mask, so set they were, and 
his eyes held a glare none ever had seen there 
before. Swiftly Ormsby reached out, caught his 
hand and dropped a light forefinger on his raging 
pulse. 

Clive jerked his hand free, angrily. 

64 1 ain’t sick, Blaze,” he said thinly, 64 that is, I 
ain’t sick of body. I reckon there’s somethin’ went 
wrong in muh brain, though; leastwise, I got a 
feelin’ up there that I’m a-goin’ to kill Cougar 
Evans.” 

Two-Gun was already assembling the Swinging J 
riders and now he cried: 

44 1 reckon we better get a-goin’, boys, ’cause 
Cougar is gainin’ on us every minnit we waste 
here.” 


209 


210 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


46 You fellers ain’t goin’ after Cougar, none of 
yuh!” 

It was Clive’s voice, sharp and clear, dominant 
to its last vibration. The others looked swiftly 
toward him. His face had not changed its expres¬ 
sion, save that the look in his eyes had softened to 
one of calm determination. He went on: 

44 I’m a-goin’ after Cougar muhse’f; onderstand? 
Nobody’s goin’ but me. The rest of you fellers 
get back to the ranch and keep yore eyes on things. 
Don’t expect me till yuh see me. I reckon I won’t 
be back ontil I find Forest, and nobody knows 
where Cougar’ll head with her.” 

44 But, Clive-” Ormsby began, then grew 

silent under a gesture from Clive. 

44 There ain’t a bit of use argyfyin’, Blaze. 
I’m a-goin’ alone. I reckon mebbe yuh don’t 
onderstand how I feel about this, old timer.” 

Ormsby’s face softened and he dropped an affec¬ 
tionate hand on Clive’s shoulder. 

44 1 reckon I do, old man, and it shall be as you 
say. We’ll go back to the ranch and we’ll be 
waiting for you to show up with Miss Forest. Got 
plenty of shells for your six-gun?” 

Clive nodded, already turning toward the rear 
of the bunkhouse where Thunder waited patiently. 

Two-Gun came up to him, holding out his silver- 
mounted guns, butts first. 

44 Tex,” he said, 44 ever since I had these weepins 
made to order there ain’t never be’n nobody but me 
had a hand on ’em. They shoot straighter’n a 



CLIVE TAKES THE TRAIL 


211 


crow flies at matin’ time, or a c’yote runs, boy. 
Take ’em with yuh. Yuh can’t miss Cougar with 
’em. Go on, Tex, take ’em.” His voice was plead¬ 
ing. 

But Clive shook his head, lifting from its holster 
his own heavy .45 and spinning the cylinder. 

66 Nope,” he said, “ I thank yuh, Two-Gun, but 
I’m used to this baby and she shore sends her 
message where I tell ’er to. Cripes, I’d like to have 
yuh along, you and Blaze, but somehow I feel I 
got to attend to this thing alone, now that I know 
where she’s gone and that only Cougar’s with ’er.” 

He swung into the saddle and turned Thunder’s 
head toward Pence. 

66 Say, Pence,” he said, his voice level and hard, 
64 yuh got any idee where Cougar’ll head with that 
giri?” 

66 1 s’pose he’ll find his way into the Brindle 
Canyon country, down toward Mex, but ’less’n he’s 
a-pointin’ toward Brindletown, I can’t say as I 
know where he’ll fetch up.” 

Brindle Canyon! To Clive it meant a vast 
region isolated from all the world by reason of its 
inaccessibility — a literal haunt of frontier des¬ 
peradoes, gamblers and killers. He had never been 
there, nor nearer to it than he was now, but strange 
tales about the place had reached even over into 
Texas, and he had heard them during his days as a 
Ranger. He straightened in his saddle, drew his 
belt in a notch, then turned toward his riders. 

66 Well, I’m on muh way, boys. Take care of 


212 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


the ranch. If I don’t come back yuh’ll know Forest 
ain’t a-comin’ back either, in which case look up 
her folks; but I reckon I’ll get her, if I have to 
shoot it out with every damn’ gunman in thef 
Brindle Canyon country.” 

He touched his heel to Thunder’s ribs and the 
stalwart black darted like a flash down the long 
row of cottonwoods, heading into the southeast, out 
and across the Diamond L. The others watched 
him out of sight, then all but six began the weary 
trek back toward the Swinging J. The six, a little 
sheepishly, but nevertheless determinedly, took the 
direction Clive had gone. 

Brindle Canyon was somewhere off across the 
southeastern Mogollons. It was probably fifty 
miles from Cottonwood Valley and because of the 
terrific condition of the trails that led there, it 
was impossible to reach in a single day’s ride. At 
the best Clive could not figure how either himself 
or Cougar Evans could find the heart of that vast 
region before noon of the following day, even 
though they were constantly in the saddle. 

He dashed rapidly across the Diamond L and 
onto the Bender acres. He knew his course would 
also carry him over the Circle Dot and that imme¬ 
diately after leaving Bud Hart’s domain he would 
strike into the mountains, where travelling would 
be slow and the footing frequently too treacherous 
for him to remain in the saddle. He loosened the 
reins and Thunder responded by bounding forward 
eagerly. 


CLIVE TAKES THE TRAIL 


213 


He saw no one during his rapid dash across the 
Bender ranch, but Sled Fogarty barred his progress 
with uplifted hand as he spurred onto the Circle 

Dot. 

66 1 reckon yo’re a-chasin’ somebody, Morgan,” 
Sled said. 66 If so, I can give yuh a tip. I see some 
buzzard a-ridin’ like hell-bent into Trigger Gulch 
’bout a hour ago when I was over that-a-way round¬ 
in’ up some strays. Looked to me like he had 
somebody with ’im, too. Leastwise, he was a-lead- 
in’ a hoss, and I reckon a gal was on the other 
animal.” 

So Cougar was only an hour ahead. Clive 
thanked Sled swiftly and sped onward, across the 
Circle Dot. 

Trigger Gulch, he had heard, was the easiest trail 
toward the Brindle Canyon country. If Cougar 
was going up the Gulch, then there was no doubt as 
to his ultimate destination. As he spurred ahead, 
Clive recalled vividly the many tales he had heard 
of the Brindle region; stories of a nest of outlaws 
who made the place their home; had, in fact, 
established a colony there with a saloon, a store and 
their private dwellings. But it was as much as a 
man’s life was worth to approach it, unless he were 
known to at least three of the denizens there. 

Cougar, then, must have an acquaintance with 
the rustlers and killers who infested the country. 
Perhaps it was his intention to take Forest there 
and then hold her for ransom, a ransom that easily 
could mean loss of the Swinging J. Perhaps his 


214 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


intentions toward her were even worse; the thought 
caused bitterness to swell in Clive’s heart and, 
despite the rapid pace at which Thunder covered 
the ground, he felt he was being carried forward 
literally at a snail’s pace. But he was too wise in 
horse lore and range lore to urge the noble black 
beyond his present efforts. 

Vaguely he thought of the riders he had left 
behind, wondering if it would not have been better, 
after all, if he had brought them with him. If his 
journey ended in Brindle Canyon or Brindletown 
itself, then he would need help, and need it greatly. 
No man could stand alone against the hellions of 
that black hole and, sensing that this was true, his 
versatile mind turned from plans of violence with 
which it had been filled, to scheming strategies 
that he could use in getting Forest out of Cougar’s 
grasp. 

If he could overtake Evans, then all would be 
well. Clive’s breath made a little whistling noise 
as he exhaled it on this thought. But Cougar had 
a start of an hour or more. It had been fully that 
length of time since Sled Fogarty had first spied 
Cougar and then, in turn, had met Clive. That 
meant that while the Swinging J man had another 
half-hour of riding before he entered Trigger Gulch 
Cougar was already in the confines of that narrow, 
jagged gash in the mountains, spurring toward the 
dividing summit, over which he would dash down 
toward the Brindle Canyon country. 

Clive was wise in the ways of the range and 


CLIVE TAKES THE TRAIL 


215 


the mountains that hemmed it in. He knew, for 
instance, that Cougar, unless he were a fool, would 
be suspecting and expecting immediate pursuit; 
knew that Cougar, by the same token, would press 
forward without pause, killing the horses if need 
be to gain the infernal region he was heading 
toward. And, too, he knew that Cougar would be 
apt to blind his trail in order that pursuit might 
be misled and, finally, he knew that for the time 
being Forest would be safe, because Cougar would 
not dare to halt now to threaten or molest her. 

But there was something that Clive did not know 
and that was the fact that stringing out behind him, 
far to the rear, but coming on easily, were Two- 
Gun Farrell, Blaze Ormsby, Spud Garrett, Wyom¬ 
ing Red Hargrave, Bull Ellerby and Shad Stevens, 
the six who had failed to accompany the others 
on the trek back to the Swinging J. 

They had decided that Clive should not make 
his way into the Brindle Canyon region alone; 
that it was foolhardy for him to try it and that he 
should have help within immediate reach. But 
they knew he would be hurt and wrathful if he 
learned of their coming, so they were content to 
remain behind, out of earshot and eyesight, follow¬ 
ing his trail by picking up the signs he left as he 
travelled. 

Thunder, spurning the ground, tore up great 
jagged patches of sand and stone-grit with his 
hoofs and Clive smoked innumerable cigarettes. 
Between the tracks of Thunder and Clive’s burned 


216 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


cigarette stubs the trail was plain and there could 
be no losing it. 

Entering Trigger Gulch Clive let Thunder have 
his head and despite the steep trail and the treach¬ 
erous footing, the tireless black swept onward at 
amazing speed. Ten miles up the jagged defile 
Clive saw something white lying in the sand-covered 
trail and swooped in his saddle, never slackening 
speed, and picked it up. 

It was a twisted piece of white cloth that evi¬ 
dently had once formed a portion of a table cover 
and from its size and the manner in which it had 
been folded, it had been used as a bandage or as a 
bond; noting the wrinkled end, which told all too 
plainly that knots had been tied there, Clive ar¬ 
rived at once at the conclusion that this had been 
Forest’s gag. Now that Cougar had her out of 
earshot and probably believed that pursuit was 
either far behind or had not yet started, the villain 
evidently had at least been merciful enough to free 
her of this humiliating appendage. 

Clive dropped the cloth in the trail, forgetting 
it almost instantly, but it served as a marker for 
Two-Gun and Blaze, telling them, as it did, that 
Clive and his quarry were still pushing onward, 
directly ahead. 

By nightfall Clive had reached the summit south¬ 
east of Trigger Gulch and was gazing off across a 
vast, mysterious region of shadows and lights, 
of painted peaks and jagged canyons — the en¬ 
trance to Brindle Canyon itself. High up where 


CLIVE TAKES THE TRAIL 


217 


he was it still was light enough, and would be all 
the short Arizona night, but down below, where the 
trail pointed, it was too shadow-shrouded for any¬ 
thing to be distinguishable from that distance; how¬ 
ever, he sensed that somewhere ahead, perhaps not 
more than two or three miles distant, were Cougar 
and Forest. 

He was now thirty miles from Cottonwood Valley 
and from now on the trail would be at times virtu¬ 
ally impassable. Much of his way he would 
make on foot, if accounts reaching his ears in the 
past were true, for it was said that there were 
places where no horse could go without constant 
danger of a slip that would send both animal and 
rider into oblivion; places, too, where the way was 
so steep that a horse could travel it only by virtue 
of a strong hand leading and coaxing it on. 
Gently, he touched the black’s side and Thunder 
started easily down from the summit, heading into 
the shadows of the mysterious region below. 

Constantly he watched ahead, hoping against 
hope that Cougar would stop for the night; hoping 
he would catch a glimpse of his quarry’s camp¬ 
fire blazing upward through the blackness. But 
he saw nothing other than the brilliant moon shoot¬ 
ing up out of the east and the low-hanging, white- 
hearted stars popping into being; doggedly, un¬ 
mindful of his intense weariness, forgetful of 
hunger or thirst, he forged ahead. 

In two hours he stopped at a tiny stream, brim¬ 
ming with icy water from the eternal snow-clad 


218 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


peaks far away, and it was only when Thunder 
buried his nose in the cooling waters that Clive 
realized he himself was parched. Hating even to 
spare this small fraction of time, he swung from 
the saddle and dropped on his stomach, a scant 
yard upstream from the black, and filled himself. 
It came to him that he might be long in the saddle, 
so he took the canteen that all riders of the Ari¬ 
zona ranges carry at their saddles, emptied its luke¬ 
warm contents and refilled it with the sparkling, 
ice-cold waters of the stream. Thunder raised his 
head, his velvety muzzle dripping, and champed his 
jaws lightly on the bit. Clive swmng into the 
saddle and they crossed the stream. 

He had been gone from the spot not quite an 
hour when six riders, their jaws set and their 
faces tired looking, reached the stream. 

The going became hard. The trail suddenly 
ended in almost a blank wall and up this Clive 
scrambled, gently talking to Thunder, coaxing him 
soothingly to the task of following. The willing 
black slid and pawed and dug his hoofs into the 
steep ascent, finally reaching the crest. Here, the 
trail was no better. If anything, it was more 
treacherous. In the gloom of the semi-night, the 
way seemed to lead directly along a narrow ridge 
top. It was not more than a foot wide, with great, 
yawning chasms whose depths disappeared in dark¬ 
ness, on either side. Clive remained on foot, hold¬ 
ing Thunder’s reins. For an hour they travelled in 
this manner, then the ridge broadened to the semb- 


CLIVE TAKES THE TRAIL 219 

lance of a roadway, and the going again became 
fair. 

Clive found himself wondering how Cougar had 
managed to force Forest across this dangerous 
portion of the trail; his blood turned icy when he 
visioned her, still bound to the horse she was rid¬ 
ing, exposed to this terrific ordeal, unable to help 
herself^ or to protect herself if the horse slipped. 
It was another incident in his score against Cougar 
Evans. Grimly, he rode onward. 

All through the night, stumbling, sliding, fighting 
his way, he travelled, sometimes in the saddle, 
other times leading the black, but always going 
forward. Once or twice he believed he heard the 
sound of horses ahead, and on these occasions he 
strove desperately to hasten his progress, but 
always he had been unable to run down his quarry. 

Day dawned in the canyons and with the first 
clearing away of the mists of night Clive looked 
about him. He was deep in the fastness of the 
illimitable mountains; towering peaks stalked up¬ 
ward toward the heavens on all sides while the 
trail he was following clung precariously to a steep, 
jagged mountain side. The ground had a peculiar 
brindle color, even the stones and the gigantic 
boulders displaying the same hue. He was, then, 
in Brindle Canyon, and the end of his journey, 
consequently, could not be much longer delayed. 

The trail was leading downward, still clinging 
to the side of the canyon. To his left was a yawn¬ 
ing chasm, fully two thousand feet deep. Across 


220 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


from him was a wall of brindle rock and stone, 
almost perpendicular in his ascent toward the ceru¬ 
lean blue of the morning sky; it was the opposite 
side of the canyon. He wondered when he would 
catch sight of the outlaw nest he had heard about, 
and he speculated as to whether there actually was 
such a place. Somehow, he was inclined to doubt 
it, yet unless Cougar knew that food, water and 
shelter lay somewhere ahead in this vast, little 
known, impenetrable region, he hardly would have 
headed this way with a girl on his hands. 

Suddenly he heard a roar above him and a great 
cataclysmic rumble of sound, climaxed by the 
shrill scream of a girl, and her voice shouting: 

“ Clive! Clive! Watch out!” 

Instinctively he pulled hard on the reins, throw¬ 
ing Thunder back on his haunches. At the same 
time he lifted his face straight up the jagged, slop¬ 
ing wall that reared, impossible of ascent, above 
him. 

A boulder was crashing downward, bounding 
high and ricocheting violently; in its wake came a 
cloud of lesser stones and dust. The murderous 
ensemble passed him, leaving him untouched. He 
had failed by a good forty feet to ride into its path. 

But he had heard Forest’s voice and thrilled 
to the very core he searched the rim of the wall 
above him. It was a good thousand feet to the 
top of that towering rampart. Through the tomb¬ 
like silence that followed the passage of the minia¬ 
ture avalanche, Clive heard a shout. 


CLIVE TAKES THE TRAIL 221 

“ Here I am, Morgan; come and get me,” said a 
taunting voice. 

To his right, and apparently on a trail far above 
him he now distinguished two figures — Cougar 
Evans and Forest Glade. Evans was waving a 
mocking hand at him. 

66 1 misjudged, or that rock would’ve got yuh, 
Morgan,” Cougar said, his voice carrying dis¬ 
tinctly, for all the great height from which it came. 
66 Yuh missed fire on the trail, I see; I figgered yuh 
would. When yuh come across that narrer ridge 
way back there near the crick, yuh orta turned 
sharp to yore right ’stead of crossin’ that razor- 
back of rock. That’s where I give yuh the slip. 
Yuh didn’t know I was watchin’ yuh back there, did 
yuh? I might’ve shot yuh, but I was afeared of 
the light and didn’t want to take no chances on 
missin’. Now, yuh can’t get up here and I reckon 
I’ll be in Brindletown afore yuh get steered right 
ag’in. If yo’re a-figgerin’ on cornin’ there yuh 
better say yore prayers, cowboy, ’cause yuh’ll 
never leave it alive.” 

Temporarily, Clive ignored Cougar. He lifted 
his voice in an anxious shout. 

64 Forest, dear, are yuh hurt?” 

44 1 am safe so far, Clive,” her voice, clear and 
soft came back to him, 44 but, oh boy, if you love 
me, save me.” 

44 I’ll get yuh away from that dog if I have to 
tear Brindletown apart board by board,” he vowed, 
thrilled at her words, conscious of his great love 


222 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


for her and aware in an all-pervading flash that 
she loved him. 

66 Yeh, Clive, dear,” mimicked Cougar, sar¬ 
castically, 66 1 reckon if there’s any tearin’ apart 
to be did, it’ll be you what gets tored.” 

66 Cougar,” cried Clive, desperately, 64 if you 
will tell me how to get to yuh I will give yuh my 
word that I’ll not try to stop yuh from gettin’ 
away, if yuh will also free Forest.” 

44 Go to hell, Morgan; I reckon this gal’s worth 
a ranch and a pot of money to me and there’s a 
sweet bunch of hell-benders over in Brindletown 
that’ll help me to collect, too. Well, I’m shore 
sorry to have to leave yuh sudden like, but we 
got to be goin’. S’long.” He waved a flippant 
hand in a gesture meant to be sardonic and, with 
Forest beside him, disappeared. 

Clive knew that had there been any manner in 
which he could have made the ascent of the canyon 
wall and gained the trail above, Cougar would 
never have spoken to him; unfamiliar as he was 
with the country, he felt a wave of despair rise in 
his heart. Somehow, he felt that he would save 
no time by riding back to the narrow ridge and 
taking the trail Cougar had followed from that 
point. He decided to ride ahead, trusting and 
praying that he would find some other way of 
reaching the higher ground. 

Then it occurred to him that Brindletown with¬ 
out doubt would be somewhere around a valley in 
these mountains, near where there would be found 


CLIVE TAKES THE TRAIL 


223 


a supply of water. That being the case, the trail 
Cougar was following ought, in the very nature of 
things, to lead downward soon, for the outlaws’ set¬ 
tlement must now be drawing very near. Hope 
flamed again in his heart as he rode onward. 

The sun stood fairly overhead when the trail 
suddenly turned sharply to the right and stalked 
almost straight up the mountain side. Once more 
he was forced to alight and lead Thunder, aware 
of how futile it was to speculate on what the trails 
would do in this unknown, mysterious region. It 
was a half-hour before he was successful in getting 
himself and his mount to the crest of the summit 
that had blocked his way. 

Once here outraged nature began to assert itself. 
Two nights and almost as many days in the saddle 
without food were beginning to tell on him. 
Despite himself he was forced to drop to the trail 
and rest. He swallowed great gulps of water from 
the canteen, then filled his high-crowned sombrero 
with the remainder and gave it to Thunder. In an 
hour he rose and swung into the saddle, somewhat 
rested, but fighting desperately against the sleep 
call that tugged at his eyelids. 

At two o’clock he rounded a jutting spire in 
the trail and drew rein. A deep, broad valley 
opened before him, into which the trail seemed 
to lead. Thousands of cattle and a few sheep 
dotted the green-clad acres thus spread out before 
him, but there was, apparently, no house or other 
sign of life. 


224 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Puzzled, he glanced about him in all directions 
and then, far up the side of the mountain, five miles 
distant across the valley, he saw a cluster of ’dobe 
huts and a scattering of tents, the whole surrounded 
by a stockade. The place was built on an inshoot¬ 
ing bench in the mountain side and to reach it, it 
was necessary to follow a tortuous trail that led 
upward from the valley. The place was a veri¬ 
table Gibraltar. Clive sensed instantly what it 
was. 

46 Brindletown,” he said to himself, 44 and all 
hell couldn’t get into it, I reckon.” 

A cluster of chokecherries beckoned to him and 
he rode among them, pulling off handfuls of the 
tart, puckery fruit and munching greedily. His 
thoughts, made thrice alert because of his nervous 
tension and loss of sleep, worked rapidly. 

44 There ain’t a damn’ bit of use tryin’ to get into 
that place from the bottom, ’specially in daylight. 
Seems to me the sensible thing to do is wait till it’s 
dark, then work round and above it and see if 
there’s any trail from that direction. They won’t 
hurt Forest yet, I reckon, ’cause if Cougar’s a-fig- 
gerin’ on gettin’ ransom for her, he’ll shore be 
a-wantin’ to take good care of her for the time 
bein’. Well, Thunder,” he said aloud, 44 1 reckon 
you and me might as well get some rest while we 
can, ’cause it ’pears to me we’re a-goin’ to be two 
busy hombres come night time ag’in.” 

He dropped the saddle and bridle from the black 
and making a pillow of the equipage threw him- 


CLIVE TAKES THE TRAIL 225 

self beneath the chokecherries and closed his 
eyes. 

It was there, two hours later, that six tired-eyed, 
face-strained riders found him and without waking 
him turned loose their own mounts and lay down 
beside him. 


CHAPTER XVI 
Brindletown 

A shuddering, ululating wail shattered the si¬ 
lence of the valley and Clive sat up with a start, 
staring about him dumbly until memory returned 
like a flash to sear him with renewed anxiety. 
A white, glittering moon was almost directly over¬ 
head and with a reproachful groan he looked at 
his watch. It pointed to one o’clock — and he had 
slept since the middle of the afternoon! 

66 Dang’ muh onery, no-account, lazy hide,” he 
rasped savagely as he gained his feet. 46 Here I 
be’n a-sleepin’ like a no good yaller dog while 
Forest’s in danger. If that c’yote hadn’t ’a’ let 
out that blast I reckon I’d be’n a-sleepin’ still — ” 

His voice died as his eyes, now fully awake and 
alert to the scenes about him, fell on a number of 
horses that were grazing calmly beneath the choke- 
cherries, near the spot where Thunder was nibbling 
daintily. Then for the first time he became aware 
of the slumbering forms sprawled at random points 
beneath the trees. Grimly he stared at them, dark 
anger contracting his brow; but for only a minute 
was this the case, then his face softened and a 
luminous light came into his eyes. 

44 Good old Blaze and Two-Gun; they just nach- 
erally was afraid I’d get chawed up and they 
226 


BRINDLETOWN 


227 


struck out to see me safe through whatever fracas 
I was headin’ into, and here I was a-aimin’ to get 
riled up about it. Dang yore hide, Clive Morgan, 
yuh orta get down on yore hunkers and pass out 
thanks that yuh got such friends. Hell, I’m glad 
they’re here.” 

He called softly to the sleeping men and with 
prodigious yawns and stretches they came to their 
feet. All save Two-Gun and Blaze were shame¬ 
faced at first, but Clive speedily made them aware 
of how welcome they were. 

46 By cripes, I’m so hongry I could just nacher- 
ally chaw the tail off ’n a mad he-wolf,” plaintively 
wailed Wyoming Red, pressing a mournful hand 
over the general region of his stomach. 

64 Hunh, I’m hongrier ’n that,” avowed Spud. 
44 Me, I could eat the cherries right off ’n my grand- 
maw’s old straw bonnet this very minute.” 

44 1 wish to criminy I’d be’n homed a hoss,” 
lamented Shad. 44 Lookut them danged animiles 
here, would yuh? Munchin’ away on that short 
grass and feelin’ proud as a buzzard amongst a 
flock of chicken hawks. Them hosses can always 
find somethin’ to eat. By cripes, we got to get 
somethin’ purty soon or I’m goin’ down in that 
valley, shoot me a steer and have muhse’f a steak 
if I’m hung for a cow thief the next minute.” 

44 And I’ll go with yuh and help yuh eat the 
steak,” said Bull. 

44 1 reckon we’ll all be goin’ down there in a 
jiffy,” said Clive. 44 1 don’t know whether you 


228 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


fellers seed it or not, but I sized up that there 
Brindletown from here and to reach her we got to 
cross this valley and get up that mounting over 
yonder. There ain’t no such thing as gettin’ in 
the place, either, ’less ’n yuh got a army or a ton of 
dynamite with yuh. I guess we got to do some fig- 
gerin’, fellers, if we do Forest any good. From 
what I be’n able to see, it ’pears to me our best 
bet lays above that place, on the rim of the over- 
hangin’ wall.” 

66 We speculated on that very thing when we 
had our first glimpse of the place ourselves, 
Clive,” Ormsby replied. 64 Two-Gun thinks that if 
we make the heights back of the town we may 
be able to find a way down into it, though it prob¬ 
ably will be dangerous. But, at least, we may be 
able to see what is going on in there from such a 
high point of vantage. Meantime, I’m as hungry 
as all these others combined, and I’m going to 
rustle myself some grub. Tell you what, there 
are sheep down in that valley, so let’s go down and 
have mutton for dinner.” 

44 And let them bozos in Brindletown see our 
fire and know there’s a gang of us on their trail?” 
Clive wanted to know. 

44 Aw, shucks, Tex; we can shield our fire, all 
right. Me, I’m hongrier than I ever thought a 
man could be and live, and while I’m dead ag’in 
woolies and mutton, right now I could eat a pickled 
rattlesnake and wash it down with cyanide,” said 
Shad. 


BRINDLETOWN 


229 


Two hours later, in a tiny gully that stalked back 
into the mountain, they dined on mutton, tender, 
but ungarnished and unseasoned; to their ravenous 
appetites it was food fit for kings. The meal 
ended and their stomachs stilled of their erstwhile 
clamorings, the towering mountain that held Brin- 
dletown and the outlaws’ nest itself did not look 
half so formidable or awesome as it had two hours 
earlier. 

They crossed the valley with caution and for 
the first time since he had come to Arizona Clive 
was bitter against the brilliant, low-hanging moon. 
He was fearful that it would reveal the seven to 
watchful eyes in Brindletown and because of this 
they were unusually careful in making their way 
through the five-mile width of the lush-grass to 
the foot of the mountain on the other side. Once 
there, however, they believed they had been un¬ 
observed, though they could not, of course, be cer¬ 
tain. Looking up at the formidable heights, Blaze 
Ormsby said softly: 

66 Great things are doing through the world this 
night, methinks. ’Twas on a night like this, 
mayhap, that Wolfe scaled the heights of Quebec, 
and surely ’twas a night like this when Leander 
swam the Hellespont. Can we, then, fail in con¬ 
quering this mount of Brindletown and rescuing 
fair Forest, when all history furnishes us with ex¬ 
amples of what other valiant knights have done?” 

“ Good Godfrey, Tex; Blaze has gone loco,” 
whispered Shad. 


230 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Two-Gun Farrell dropped lightly from his horse. 

66 1 reckon there never was a hoss that could 
climb up there and me, I’m a-goin’ to let mine stay 
here and graze his dang’ fool head off. We’ll 
have to climb that jasper on foot, that’s all.” 

The others realized the truth of Two-Gun’s asser¬ 
tion and stripped their horses before staking them 
out with lariats. Clive and Two-Gun led the way 
up the side of the mountain. 

66 We got to get off ’n this trail and dodge Brin- 
dletown on the way up, and she shore is goin’ to 
be hell when we hit them straight up and down 
places ’way up there in the air,” he said. 

For an hour they toiled upward, struggling often 
to maintain footing, but eventually they found 
themselves on a level with Brindletown, and some¬ 
what to the right of the place. But the hardest 
part of their task now confronted them. 

The mountain at this point became almost a sheer 
wall, marred and scarred in a thousand and one 
places by the action of wind and weather. It was 
to these myriads of tiny crevices that they owed 
their eventual success, for by using these gashes for 
foot and hand holds and by taking frequent rests, 
they finally pulled themselves over the rim of the 
wall and threw themselves down, gasping. Life 
came back to their worn and strained bodies 
slowly and it was some little time before they felt 
fit to set out and conquer whatever might lie ahead. 

Dawn was streaking the eastern skies before they 
recovered their wind. They crept along the rim of 


BRINDLETOWN 


231 


the towering hanging wall until they judged they 
were fairly above Brindletown, then Clive stuck 
his head over the edge. The others joined him. 

Brindletown lay a thousand feet below them. It 
consisted of a dozen ’dobe huts, four or five tents 
and a half-’dobe, half-tent structure larger than 
any of the other buildings. Judging by its location 
and its evident importance to the place, it was a 
sort of general headquarters for the gang that in¬ 
fested the nest. A purling spring gushed from a 
clump of small trees at one end of the place. 
Rumor had said the rustlers had a saloon and 
general store, but this evidently was not true. 

Around the buildings on three sides was a ’dobe 
wall, formed in the nature of a stockade. The 
fourth side of the place was protected by the wall 
of the mountain. Quickly, every man of the 
Swinging J outfit realized that the only way they 
possibly could get into Brindletown would be by 
using a thousand-foot rope. That, obviously was 
not to be thought of. 

As they watched they saw signs of life beginning 
to stir below. Figures emerged from the huts and 
converged on the large central structure. They saw 
a man mount the wall and apparently gaze off 
toward the valley, as though he were using a field 
glass. 

It seemed evident that Cougar had arrived, else 
this sentinel was merely performing a daily func¬ 
tion necessary to the safety of the denizens of the 
outlaws’ nest. Other figures appeared and moved 


232 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


toward the large structure. After a time it seemed 
the entire populace must by now have converged 
there. 

66 Well, we’re here, and by cripes I can’t see 
what good it’s a-goin’ to do us. If I was a ant or 
a buzzard I reckon I could get into that damn’ 
place, but bein’ a two-laiged hooman I don’t reckon 
I can get any closer ’n I am right this minute.” 

It was Shad, and he spoke lugubriously. 

“Two-Gun,” Ormsby murmured, “what do you 
suppose would happen if I were to empty my six- 
gun down into Brindletown?” 

“ Nothin’ much, I don’t reckon,” Farrell re¬ 
sponded. “ The man don’t live that could shoot 
worth a damn’ aimin’ a thousand feet downward, 
and yore six-gun wouldn’t do no damage, ’less it 
was by accident. I reckon mebbe we could pester 
hell out of ’em and like as not make ’em keep 
under cover, but that wouldn’t do us no good nor 
get us no results. Nope, we got to figger out 
somethin’ besides six-guns from where we’re a- 
settin’.” 

Clive looked around toward them, a flash in his 
steady eyes. 

“ Then, Two-Gun, what do yuh s’pose would 
happen if I was to heave a boulder down there?” 

Two-Gun thwacked his thigh with a heavy palm 
and came the nearest to chortling any there had 
ever heard him. 

“Yuh got a idee now that beats everything else 
all holler,” he cried. “ That shore is the ticket. 


BRINDLETOWN 


233 


but for cripe’s sake, we want to be shore we ain’t 
a-heavin’ no rocks at the house where Miss Forest 
is bein’ cooped up.” 

66 1 don’t reckon she’s in that big one,” said Clive 
thoughtfully, 44 and I betcha I can take a fifty- 
pound rock and peg that place plumb center, first 
try.” 

44 Then do it, damn it, and don’t talk no more 
about it,” said Spud, his fiery, pugnacious nature 
yearning for action and chafing at their delay. 
44 If yuh don’t, by cripes I will.” 

Ormsby raised a hand. 

44 Wait,” he said. 44 1 think we shall learn right 
now where Miss Forest is sheltered.” 

They looked downward, following a finger he 
was now pointing, and they saw Forest led from 
a hut at the extreme lower end of Brindletown, and 
into the larger structure. Clive turned to the 
others. 

44 1 reckon we ain’t a-goin’ to get anywhere onless 
we start somethin’, and while they got Forest in 
there let’s figger this thing out. First, I’m askin’ 
you hombres a question. S’posin’ I’d heave a 
dozen of these rocks down there and stampede that 
crowd. What’d happen?” 

44 Any damn’ fool can answer that, cowboy,” 
grinned Spud, 44 and this ’n ’ll do it. Them fellers 
would skedaddle hell-bent down that trail and into 
the valley if their houses started tumblin’ around 
’em.” 

44 Ezackly,” said Clive, 44 and while they was 


234 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


a-runnin’ we’d be a-settin’ up here like a bunch of 
old women at a quiltin’ bee, and them jaspers ’d 
get clean away.” 

Spud gave a start and Ormsby nodded, follow¬ 
ing Clive’s thought closely. The ex-Ranger re¬ 
sumed : 

66 All of which means we got to get some system 
to this. Now, here’s my idee. I figger one man 
can roll so many of them boulders down into 
Brindletown that he can drive out their whole 
damn’ gang. I don’t reckon there is more’n 
twenty or mebbe twenty-five. Well, that’s more’n 
we can mebbe tackle successful like, but rather’n 
have their town all smashed up they might be 
willin’ to trade Forest, or let her meander down 
that mounting by her lonesome, where we could 
pick her up. But anyhow, regardless of that, I 
reckon while one of us rolls boulders the other six 
can work down where we can pot-shot that trail 
sort of easy like and make life a reg’lar little hell 
for them birds when they come pilin’ out that gate 
in the ’dobe wall.” 

66 1 figgers yo’re the brains of this crowd after 
all, Tex,” opined Two-Gun. 

66 Don’t shoot them complyments too quick, Two- 
Gun. S’posin’ they start hurtin’ Forest to get 
even with us? Then what?” 

64 That is a contingency we must take care of 
when it arrives, Clive,” broke in Blaze. “ Right 
now, the thing to do is start the ball rolling. Just 
as soon as they take Miss Forest back to her hut, 


BRINDLETOWN 235 

as they no doubt will, we can act. Now let me 
amplify your plan.” 

46 If that means yo’re a-goin’ to help it like, 
shoot,” responded Clive. 

Ormsby smiled. 

44 Designate one of us to remain here. The rest 
will work downward to points of vantage along 
the trail and when they are set and ready, the one 
who remains here will start to roll the boulders. 
If it happens that they all crowd into the building 
holding Forest in the knowledge that we will not 
harm her, the only thing left for us to do is be¬ 
siege them. We are out, they are in. We can 
live indefinitely off the cattle and sheep in the 
valley. Sooner or later the inmates of Brindle- 
town will be starved into giving up. If, as we 
suspect, they start down the mountain toward 
safety, every mother’s son of us must get two men, 
and get them pronto! That will cut them down 
nearer to our own strength if it comes to a shoot¬ 
out.” 

44 Who’s a-goin’ to stay here and chuck them 
stones?” asked Shad. 

44 You are,” said Clive promptly. 

44 Like hell, I am,” rasped Shad. 44 I’m a-goin’ 
down there where I can sling lead. I ain’t no 
shucks at throwin’ stones, anyhow. Why, muh old 
pap told me once that I couldn’t hit a barrel if I 
was inside and had both ends and the bunghole 
closed tight.” 

44 1 reckon yo’re a-figgerin’ mebbe I’ll do the 


236 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


honors with them rocks,” sarcastically cut in Spud 
Garrett. 66 Well, I ain’t, and that’s that. I’m 
a-goin’ down where there’s a chance to see some 
action, that’s me.” 

44 Well, none of yuh need try wishin’ the damn’ 
job on me,” said Wyoming Red. 

44 Only one way to settle it, boys,” said Blaze 
Ormsby. He picked up a handful of splintered 
shale from the ground and carefully selected seven 
pieces, which he placed in his towering-crowned 
sombrero and held above his head. 

46 There are seven small stones in my hat,” he 
said. 44 One has a tiny white streak through it. 
The remainder are the same brindle colored stuff 
that you see throughout this whole region. We 
shall all draw and the man who picks out the 
stone with the white streak stays here and rolls the 
boulders. That fair?” 

44 1 reckon she be,” opined Spud, and he drew 
the first stone. 

44 Yipee-e-e-e,” he cried. 44 She’s brindle as 
hell; ain’t a white spot on ’er.” 

Two-Gun, Clive and Wyoming Red each drew 
brindle stones, then Bull Ellerby drew forth the 
one with the white streak. He cast it aside with 
a curse, then looked about him. 

44 Well, I’m ’lected, I reckon, but afore the rest 
of yuh buzzards go down there for the soft end of 
this game, yuh got to help me roll my ammynition 
into place.” 

In twenty minutes they had five score boulders. 


BRINDLETOWN 


237 


varying in weight from fifty to two hundred pounds, 
perched along the rim of the wall at points of 
vantage from where, following a heave, they would 
hurtle downward on their missions of destruction. 

66 Now,” said Clive, flinging the moisture from 
his brow with a calloused forefinger, 66 yuh’ll be 
able to see us most of the time and after we get set 
yuh can start yore ball a-rollin’ whenever yuh dang’ 
please. Only, be careful that yuh don’t get one 
of them stones on that hut where Forest is, or near 
her in case they bring her out and make a run for 
it.” 

Bull flexed the muscles in his powerful arms and 
turned to look over the rim, gauging the distance. 

66 Yuh can trust me, I reckon,” he said, and 
Clive was satisfied. 

As the others made their way down the wall, Bull 
sought a club to use as a lever and finally tore one 
from the butt of a dead palo verde. With this in 
hand and his primeval ammunition ready, he re¬ 
sumed his watchful waiting. In an hour he saw 
two men lead Forest from the central building and 
take her back to her hut. 

Far below, and toward his left, he made out scat¬ 
tered dots that crouched behind jagged outcrop¬ 
pings in the wall. He sensed that the six from the 
Swinging J were in their places. He walked to a 
two-hundred-pound boulder and thrust his club 
under it, lifting gently. Carefully he gauged the 
amount of force he wished to put behind it, then 
heaved mightily. 


238 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Like a meteor the heavy boulder hurtled down¬ 
ward, touching no portion of the wall as it dropped. 
But Bull had not given it quite the start he had in¬ 
tended and it fell a little short of the large struc¬ 
ture, which was his mark. With a roaring crash 
that reached to his eager ears, the stone dropped 
squarely in the thoroughfare that spanned the out¬ 
laws’ nest. 

Hardly had it struck before another and lighter 
boulder was on its way. Bull had seen the other 
was falling short and now, seizing a fifty-pound 
rock in his brawny arms he lifted it high above 
his head and cast it straight out from him, watch¬ 
ing with fascinated eyes as it dropped. 

Fairly and squarely on the very edge of the 
roof it struck, crashing into the central building 
as though the structure had been built of paper. 
It hurtled among the ranks of the startled occu¬ 
pants, who were tumbling outside as the result of 
the first dinning crash in the street. Ruin and 
death followed, for the boulder crushed the life 
out of three outlaws, maimed two others and com¬ 
pletely demolished the front of the house. 

Close behind followed another light stone, sent 
forth with all the strength of Bull Ellerby’s mighty 
arms. It crashed through in the wake of its pred¬ 
ecessor and two more men fell victims. Then the 
outlaws scattered, the sounds of their startled yells 
and cries reaching clearly to the canyon rim. 

Warm with his efforts and his blood tingling with 
the success of his work, Bull now began to heave 


BRINDLETOWN 


239 


stones with methodical precision, choosing targets 
in all directions, careful only that no stone fell 
near the hut wherein Forest was confined. 

The outlaws made a pell-mell dash for the gate 
and crashed through, storming out onto the trail, 
where they paused and looked upward. Bull tried 
with a twenty-pound stone to reach them, but his 
effort succeeded only in making a gap in the ’dobe 
wall. Seeing this, the outlaws now stood their 
ground, convinced that he was powerless to hurt 
them further. 

Arms were lifted and pointed; Bull could tell the 
men below were discussing him, no doubt taking 
him for Clive, and already planning how best to 
storm the canyon wall and either drive him off or 
kill him. He chuckled at what evidently was their 
surprise over the method of attack, over this disillu¬ 
sionment that came with the ending of their dream 
of security in Brindletown. Calmly, Bull heaved 
another stone. He saw it strike the hut next to 
the one that quartered Forest. It crashed through 
the roof in a cloud of dust and a din of noise. 

Suddenly two figures ran into the roadway. 
Bull recognized them instantly, and thrilled. It 
was Forest and a man was dragging her toward 
the ’dobe wall; Cougar Evans, it was, and Bull 
cursed him heartily, albeit fruitlessly. He held 
his fire temporarily, unwilling to risk Forest’s life 
among the debris that flew in all directions when 
a stone crashed, but as Cougar and Forest made the 
gate, Bull, who now had the range of all the houses 


240 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


below, hurled a boulder onto the hut that had held 
the girl, watched it demolish it, then paused to see 
what was coming next. 

He saw several men leave the trail and start for 
the wall, as though preparing to storm up the 
treacherous place and attack him. He wondered 
what Clive and the others were doing, and why 
they had not gone into action. He was answered 
almost on the instant. 

A rattling volley of shots and slumping figures 
among the outlaws carried to him an unmistakable 
message that the fight was on. The outlaws, sur¬ 
prised for a second time in a comparatively short 
time, stood temporarily at a loss. Then as another 
blast from the Swinging J riders cut down their 
ranks they opened a furious fusillade on the 
boulders that sheltered Clive and the others. 

Bull could see Cougar Evans, still clinging to 
Forest, hastening down the trail into the valley; 
he was aware, of course, that none of the riders 
from the Cottonwood Valley would fire where he 
might hurt the girl. 

66 Hell’s bells,” grated Bull. 66 After all our 
work is that damn’ c’yote a-goin’ to get away with 
her ag’in?” 

It seemed so, for while the fight in the trail con¬ 
tinued to wax hot Cougar and Forest kept on down¬ 
ward toward the valley. The girl was resisting, 
but her captor was literally dragging her along. 

From their shelter behind the rocks the Swinging 
J men were playing havoc in the ranks of the out¬ 
laws and the latter, sensing that while they had the 


BRINDLETOWN 


241 


benefit of numbers their plights were hopeless 
under the circumstances, beat a hasty retreat back 
inside the ’dobe walls. Bull, watching, prepared 
to rout them out again with more boulders. 

As he straightened up, a rock in his powerful 
hands, he saw a form streak down the trail in the 
wake of Cougar and Forest; saw the figure leaping 
recklessly ahead, covering ground with an abandon 
that was marvellous in view of the fact that a slip 
or a mis-step at high speed would precipitate him 
into a chasm and land him at the bottom, a thousand 
feet below, with a shattered body. Bull recognized 
the leaping, running form. 

66 That’s Tex,” he told himself. 64 He’s a-goin’ 
after Cougar, and I bet a dollar ag’in a horned 
toad’s toe-nails he gets him this time.” He let his 
boulder fly. 

He heard three quick shots and realized it was 
a signal. Looking downward he could make out 
someone motioning and watching closely he saw 
he was being beckoned below. Thankfully, he 
seized one more boulder, hurled it and watched it 
scatter the outlaws at the gate, then calmly set 
about tilting as many stones over the rim at one 
time as he could. 

The effect was startling. Like an avalanche 
they roared downward, carrying part of the wall 
with them. Grimly he set about the task of join¬ 
ing those below. When he reached them Two-Gun 
said: 66 Tex is streakin’ it for Cougar and the gal. 
We’re a-goin’ to get our hosses and try to pick ’em 
up.” 


CHAPTER XVII 
“Draw, Damn Yuh!” 

Clive followed Cougar Evans down the hill with¬ 
out thought for the menacing bullets that streamed 
after him from the outlaws who were crouching 
behind the shattered ’dobe wall. He gave no heed 
to the treacherous footing of the trail. Evans had 
only a short start and he was handicapped by 
reason of Forest resisting him all she could. Clive 
was positive that the time had finally come when 
he and Cougar would have it out and the thought 
fired his blood as nothing else had ever done, save 
only Forest’s words back in the mountains — “ Oh 
boy, if you love me, save me!” 

The memory of her plea was engraved on his 
brain ineradicably, and the words echoed now in 
his ears as he plunged downward in the wake of his 
quarry. His only worry was that Cougar, seeing 
he was going to be overtaken, would do some harm 
to Forest. But this he must chance. 

Ahead of him, only a short distance, he glimpsed 
the pair, Evans still running swiftly and jerking 
the girl along cruelly; in this manner he over¬ 
came her efforts to resist him. But Clive knew he 
was gaining, and gaining rapidly. As nearly as he 
could judge, he would catch them just about where 


64 DRAW, DAMN YUH!” 


243 


the trail came out into the valley and left the moun¬ 
tain. He increased his efforts. 

Once Cougar looked back; he saw that Clive 
was catching up with him. Immediately he strove 
to increase his own pace. Rapidly the bottom of 
the mountain drew near and in another five minutes 
Clive would surely be on his prey. Cougar, look¬ 
ing back a second time, seemed suddenly to realize 
this and then he took what was, to his distorted 
mind, the only way out. 

He raised his arm, clenched his fist and delib¬ 
erately struck the girl on the point of her jaw, fell¬ 
ing her and knocking her completely unconscious. 
Thus freed of his hampering burden he bounded 
ahead and at doubly-increased speed, sure that the 
girl’s plight would halt his vengeful pursuer and 
give him ample time in which to escape. 

Clive reached Forest’s side and with a little moan 
of anguish gathered her in his arms. Her face was 
white and a blue lump was swelling rapidly where 
the fist of Cougar had landed. Her eyes were 
closed and she was breathing feebly. Frantically 
he worked with her, calling to her in endearing 
terms, straining her against his tumultously beat¬ 
ing heart. 

And thus they were when the others reached 
them. Ormsby calmly thrust Clive aside while he 
bent over Forest. Quickly he examined her. 

66 The damn’ brute knocked her cold,” he said, 
after a moment. 44 He did it scientifically, too; 
struck her squarely where the carotid comes over 


244 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


the ridge of the jaw, jolting the blood into her brain 
and producing unconsciousness. But, save for a 
sore face, it will not hurt her. Here, Clive, place 
her feet a little uphill and her head somewhat 
downhill. So; now leave her there. She’ll be 
around fit as a fiddle in a jiffy.” 

His hand was holding hers and his forefinger 
was touching her pulse as he spoke. He smiled up 
into Clive’s anxious eyes. 

66 Don’t worry, Clive, old man,” he said softly. 
“ She isn’t hurt; on my word.” 

66 Then I’m a-goin’ to get Evans,” and Clive rose 
to his feet, grim resolve in every line of his 
features. “ Take care of her, Blaze, and don’t 
let her out of yore sight. Make it straight for the 
ranch. I reckon I’ll breeze in that-a-way later; 
but just now, I’ve got somethin’ to attend to and 
I’m a-follerin’ Cougar if I have to cross every 
damn’ hill in these parts and chase him clean down 
into Mex. S’long.” 

And he was off like a shot. Evans, he knew, had 
gained a respite by reason of striking and knock¬ 
ing out Forest, and by this time he probably had 
saddled a horse and was streaking away, none 
could say where. Clive strove to calm his racing 
thoughts and stopped deliberately in the trail the 
while he looked about him. Then he saw a move¬ 
ment below him, and to his left. It was Evans, 
on a horse, and heading south. 

Far off the mountains rose up like a wall on all 
sides, save for a single gash almost fairly in the 


“ DRAW, DAMN YUH!” 


245 


middle of the valley’s end. It was apparent that 
Cougar was heading for this. Clive immediately 
laid out his course in his mind, and hurried on¬ 
ward. He hastened to where Thunder, rested and 
contented, was grazing calmly. Three minutes 
later Clive was storming off in the path of Cougar, 
Thunder straining as he had never strained before. 

And now began a chase that was destined to live 
in the annals of the historic West for years; for 
Cougar had taken for his mount a stolen animal 
that had won fame far and near for endurance 
and speed, and try as he would Clive did not 
seem to be able to close the gap between them. 
Three miles apart they swept gustily into the moun¬ 
tains and stormed up toward the pass that opened 
through to the south. All day long they rode, on 
and on, through the pass and down the southern 
side of the slope. 

Night came on and found them still riding, little 
change in the distance that separated them. At 
midnight Clive saw the lights of a tiny mining 
camp. He paused briefly before the open door of 
a saloon and hailed a miner who stood outside. 

66 Did yuh see a hombre foggin’ through here 
lately, old timer, like he was tryin’ to beat all hell 
a-gettin’ somewheres?” 

66 1 reckon I did,” came the answer. 66 He must 
’ve planned on goin’ some distance, too, ’cause he 
stopped long enough at the Chink’s place to grab 
a piece of beef and some bread. Yuh after ’im?” 

Instead of answering, Clive waved a friendly, 


246 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


thankful hand and touched his heels to Thunder’s 
ribs. At dawn he followed Cougar?s own lead and 
bought food at a restaurant in still another mining 
camp, then after watering Thunder lightly, urged 
the noble animal ahead. 

66 1 reckon if we don’t come in sight of him by 
noon, old hoss, I’ll stop long enough for yuh to get 
some eats and take a breathin’ spell, but by cripes, 
he can’t keep a-goin’ forever on that hoss of his 
’thout restin’ him, neither, and yuh ain’t never seen 
one yet that could beat yuh at the long distance 
game, have yuh?” He rubbed the black’s neck 
with an affectionate, soothing hand. 

At ten o’clock he was out of the southern slope 
of the mountains and crossing a cattle ranch. At 
the ranch house he found a large, blooded horse, 
head drooping, quivering, almost dead on his feet. 

66 1 just got that hoss traded me for a piece of 
crow-bait that a geezer said he wanted; feller that 
come in a-ridin’ hell bent,” a grizzled foreman told 
Clive. 66 Now, I reckon yo’re a-chasin’ him.” 

44 Which way’d he go?” Clive asked. 

44 He was headin’ south of here. Like as not 
yuh’ll run onto him in Sigsbee, ’bout forty mile 
from here. I don’t reckon that hoss I traded him 
will carry him any further ’n that.” 

Clive rested Thunder at the ranch until three in 
the afternoon. Five hours he allowed the black, 
and five only, then he was in the saddle again. 
The splendid animal, despite the terrific race he 
had made the previous day and night, seemed to 


66 DRAW, DAMN YUH!” 247 

have recovered fully, and at nightfall Clive rode 
into Sigsbee. 

He found Cougar had arrived only three hours 
earlier and had lost a precious hour finding an¬ 
other horse. Finally, he had been able to pick up 
one and, with a two-hour lead, was off once more, 
still heading south. 

66 He’s makin’ for Mexico, shore as hell,” Clive 
rasped in his parched throat. 66 Well, I’ll get him 
if I have to foller him clear down to Panymaw.” 

At nightfall, two days later, Clive rode into a 
nondescript little town that set squarely on the in¬ 
ternational boundary. He had traced Cougar 
without once having missed the trail, and so far 
Evans had used five different horses. Thunder 
was now showing the strain of the race. His ribs 
stood out under a coat that had been a soft, vel¬ 
vety black, but which was now a gray mud formed 
from a mixture of lathery sweat and dust. His 
proud head drooped, but his great, valiant heart 
still was willing and had Clive urged, Thunder 
would have continued to carry on until he dropped 
in his tracks. 

Clive was anxious now about Thunder’s welfare 
and was considering seriously leaving the horse in 
this place, while he either bought or hired another 
animal with which to continue the race. But he 
was saved the trouble. 

A wizened man with shrivelled countenance and 
barren pate watched him ride up to the tie-rack in 
front of a building labelled International Saloon. 


248 THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 

As Clive dismounted this man chuckled and ad¬ 
vanced. 

66 I’ll bet a dollar I can tell what you are doing 
here, Mister,” he said. 66 You are after a fellow 
who rode in here about two hours ago. Aren’t 
you, now?” 

Immediately Clive grasped him, recognizing his 
type; an Eastener, down on his luck and degener¬ 
ated into a typical saloon rat. His was a fa¬ 
miliar figure in the border cities and towns. 

64 There’s a double-eagle in it for yuh if yuh tell 
me where to find that feller,” he said. 

The other looked crestfallen. 

44 He is in town, Mister, but I don’t know where. 
This is Golfornia, you know, and half of it is in 
Mexico. Likely as not, he is on the other side now, 
for no one has heard of him leaving here. At 
that, I don’t imagine he could. You see, his horse 
was all in; could hardly stand up, and there aren’t 
any for sale in this man’s town. Those who have 
horses here hang onto them in case they have to 
depart rather suddenly. Say, this is a bad town, 
Mister.” 

Impatiently, Clive thrust a gold piece in the 
other’s hand. 

44 What do yuh mean it’s bad?” he asked. 

44 Why, just what I said. Spook Spencer, Dig¬ 
ger Wade, Three-Finger Smith and a lot more gun¬ 
men run this place and there’s a shooting here at 
least twice a week. If the bird you are after is a 
friend of the fellows I just named, I give you my 


“DRAW, DAMN YUH!” 249 

word you would better watch yourself, or you will 
be bumped off pronto .” 

The man hurried away and Clive whistled softly. 
The men the old fellow had named were well known 
all over the West as gunmen and desperadoes who 
stopped at nothing to gain their ends. If Cougar 
Evans was a friend of such men, then Clive had his 
task cut out for him — a task that would be well 
nigh impossible of fulfilling. 

It looked as though there were friendships here, 
else why had Cougar ridden this far? Unless he 
felt he could safely make a stand here, why had he 
chosen Golfornia as his goal? Clive scouted the 
theory that Cougar could not obtain a horse and 
had halted involuntarily. It was not plausible. 

Cougar, Clive realized fully, was afraid of the 
Swinging J foreman. He had proved this by his 
mad flight. Possibly memories of what had hap¬ 
pened to Coldwater, Clem Jacobs and others of the 
Cottonwood Valley rustlers had inspired this fear, 
but at any rate it was genuine. Therefore, unless 
Cougar felt that he was safe here from Clive’s 
vengeance, he assuredly would have continued on 
into Mexico and made good his escape into the 
vast, mysterious reaches of the land below the 
Rio Grande. 

Clive turned Thunder’s head and swung lightly 
into the saddle. 

“ I reckon I’m in for it, old hoss,” he told the 
intelligent animal. “ Cougar just nacherally 
yanked me into a damn’ trap here, it seems, and 


250 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


it begins to look as if I might have to shoot muh 
way out. But that ain’t a-going to keep me from 
makin’ yuh comfortable, old timer. I’m a-goin’ to 
find yuh a place and arrange for yore hoard and 
room, and yo’re a-goin’ to stay right here ontil 
yo’re damn’ good and rested or I’ve cashed in muh 
chips. Yuh got to fill up them holler places in 
yore ribs, hoss, and if we gets out of this thing 
together, yuh can bet yore old chin-whiskers I’ll 
never treat yuh this-a-way ag’in.” 

An hour later he left the livery stable, having 
seen Thunder thoroughly rubbed down, fed, bedded 
and given water. He walked cautiously along the 
single street of the place, through the middle of 
which ran the international line. A man might 
stand in Mexico, shoot him down in the United 
States, and get away before the combined town 
authorities could act; but that was a chance he felt 
he had to take. 

He wondered where Cougar was keeping him¬ 
self, and when he reached the first saloon on the 
American side of the line he looked cautiously 
within. Cougar was not there; neither were any 
of the gunmen Clive had been warned against, for 
the Swinging J rider would have recognized all 
of them from former experiences he had had with 
them while still a Texas Ranger. Up the entire 
length of the American side he worked a careful 
way, sheltered by the gloom, but in none of the 
half-dozen saloons he visited did he find trace of 
Cougar. 


“DRAW, DAMN YUH!” 


251 


Crossing the street to the Mexican side at the 
upper end of the thoroughfare he started back 
along the line of straggling buildings. It seemed 
the life and ribaldry of the place were on the side 
where flew a ragged flag denoting the land was 
ruled by Emperor Porfirio Diaz. He felt that 
here, if at all, he would find his man. And he 
did. 

In the Golfornia Emporium he saw Cougar. 
Three men were with him, drinking and laughing. 
But Evans was not laughing. He looked worn 
and haggard, strained and tired. His companions 
Clive recognized instantly. They were Three- 
Finger Smith, Digger Wade and Spook Spencer. 
Three-Finger was a notorious Texas gunman, 
Spook had killed a half-dozen men and Digger 
was an outlaw who had plied his craft successfully 
in both the territories of Arizona and New Mexico. 

Clive drew his .45 and spun the cylinder. It 
worked smoothly, and the heavy hand-grip fitted 
his palm perfectly. He dropped the gun back in 
its holster, drew his belt a notch tighter and squared 
his shoulders. He hooked his right thumb in his 
belt, letting his left hand hang low and wide and 
at his side. He thrust open the swinging, shoulder- 
high door, and stepped inside. 

Three-Finger Smith saw him immediately, but 
stood quietly, watching. He said something in a 
low voice to Cougar and the latter whirled swiftly. 
His face went the color of marble as his eyes met 
Clive’s. Swiftly Spook Spencer and Digger Wade 


252 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


dropped in beside him, while Three-Finger main¬ 
tained his original position. 

66 Yo’re here, are ye?” rasped Cougar, his eyes 
flaring with hate and a sudden lust to kill. He 
seemed to take courage in the proximity of the 
three gunmen. 

66 Yes, Evans, I’m here,” said Clive, his voice 
level and cold. 66 1 reckon yuh got some of yore 
friends with yuh, but that don’t make no difference 
between me and you. I said I’d get yuh and I’m 
here to keep muh word.” 

Calmly he gazed over the quartet, then his jaw 
squared and his eyes gleaming, he cried: 

“ Draw, damn yuh!” 

Spook Spencer was the first to move and his 
white, womanly hand flashed for his gun. Clive 
had watched coolly, fully aware that he faced 
not Evans’ gun alone, but four of the fastest six- 
shooters in the West. He had a feeling that he 
was about to die, yet he was not sorry. He was 
dying in a great and wonderful cause. He was 
dying because he was avenging the woman he 
loved, the woman Evans had kidnaped, brutally 
dragged through the tortures of hell, then had de¬ 
liberately struck in the face with his fist. He saw 
Spencer move and sensed that Cougar and Digger 
Wade also were going into action. 

Clive’s hand dropped and he used an old-time 
gunman’s trick that only Two-Gun Farrell knew he 
was aware of. His six-gun never left its holster. 
Instead, the butt of his gun was forced downward 


66 DRAW, DAMN YUH!” 


253 


and the barrel automatically forced upward. His 
holster had no bottom and the naked end of the 
barrel had paralleled his thigh. Now as the hol¬ 
ster tilted and the barrel came up the muzzle roared 
and after that it kept roaring. 

Spook’s gun never got quite half-way up. It 
was, in fact, barely out of its holster when Clive’s 
bullet struck him. Throwing up his hands, Spook 
fell forward on his face. His fall saved Clive’s 
life, for his body lurched against Digger Wade as 
the latter fired and the bullet meant for Clive went 
through the hat of Three-Finger Smith, discon¬ 
certing the latter, who also was going now for his 
gun. 

And thus does fate work in the cause of the just. 
Clive’s first shot killed one enemy and for an in¬ 
stant rendered two others helpless, therefore he 
had only to beat Cougar to keep his vow. 

Cougar, seeing Clive’s hand drop, had gone for 
his gun and now it was out and spouting. It 
sounded twice and at each crashing report Clive’s 
solidly-planted body shook; then a tiny hole 
seemed to leap as though from a magician’s wand 
and grow squarely between Cougar’s eyes. Evans 
dropped, sprawling his length across Spencer. 

Clive’s third bullet struck Digger Wade in the 
shoulder and the latter spun heavily, sitting down 
and dropping his gun, the while he mouthed 
venomous curses. Then Three-Finger Smith fired 
and Clive’s knees buckled under him. He was 
dropping, but even as he fell his gun left its holster, 


254 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


now clear for all to see, and snapped upward. 
It roared once, twice, and Three-Finger fell, shot 
once in the heart and once where his eyebrows 
parted. 

The whole affair had taken less than three sec¬ 
onds. Clive hit the floor gently and his shoulders 
sagged against the wall. Wearily he looked about 
him, suddenly feeling old and tired, noting the 
startled awe with which those who were assembled 
there gazed at him from their points of safety about 
the room. A voice suddenly yelled: 

66 If anybody shoots at that bozo ag’in, he settles 
with me, and it’s Big Tim Riley as says it.” 

Clive saw a giant of a man stride out from be¬ 
hind the bar, gun in either hand, and advance. 
As he passed the fallen quartet on the floor he 
spurned Three-Finger with his foot, then took his 
stand squarely in front of Clive, looking down at 
him. 

“ I don’t know who yuh be, Mister, but any 
hombre that can shoot hell out of Cougar Evans, 
Three-Finger Smith and Spook Spencer and put 
Digger Wade on the sick list all at one settin’ is 
shore a man after my own heart, and I’m backin’ 
yore play as she lays, regardless of what she’s all 
about.” 

“Then I reckon yuh better see how bad I’m 
busted up,” Clive said with a wan smile, feeling 
suddenly weak. 

Then he was aware of another figure beside 
him — the wizened little man who had talked with 


“DRAW, DAMN YUH!” 


255 


him when he had first ridden into Golfornia. The 
man’s fingers were running beneath his shirt with 
a touch somehow suggestive of the physician. 

“ I used to be a doctor,” he said in a low voice. 
“ That was before booze and women got me. Let 
me see your hurts.” 

Swiftly he ripped open Clive’s shirt, baring his 
white, muscular shoulders; revealing to the on¬ 
lookers where three bullets had struck him. One 
had caught him in the left arm, plowing through 
the bunched biceps; another had struck him in the 
shoulder, too high to be dangerous, but one of 
them, probably the last, threatened to have danger¬ 
ous consequences. It had plowed into Clive’s neck 
and had left a jagged, gaping wound, a little to 
the right of the wind-pipe, and barely missing the 
carotid. 

In a little while the wizened man stood up. He 
took swift command of the situation. 

“ Your arm won’t bother you much, and that 
wound in your shoulder isn’t at all dangerous, but 
that shot in the neck means you must go to bed and 
stay there. It’s bad, cowboy, and I’m not over 
sanguine about it. Think you can — ” His 
voice died out for he saw Clive’s eyes close and his 
face go white. Instantly the little man became 
all action. He turned to Big Tim Riley. 

“ I heard you say you were backing this man’s 
play, Tim,” he cried. “ If that is so, get some one 
to help me put this fellow to bed; have others fetch 
plenty of water — hot and cold, and I’ll need clean 


256 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


bandage cloths. Tell someone to run to my tent 
and get a little black satchel they’ll find under my 
bed. Haven’t used anything out of it for years, but 
I’ve got to do my best or this man ’ll die. Hustle, 
now, or he’ll cash in right here.” 

Big Tim caught the little man’s spirit and his 
great, bellowing voice roared through the room, 
sending men scurVying in a half-dozen directions. 
He bent over to assist in picking Clive from the 
floor, then felt fiery hands seize him and literally 
hurl him aside, while two men fell on their knees 
beside Clive and exclaimed with hot voices. 

One gazed at the fallen Swinging J foreman 
with tiny green lights flaring in his eyes. The 
other was calm of face and manner; handsome, 
with black, crisp hair and smooth hands. He was 
going at Clive’s wounds much the same as the little 
man had done, except that his touch seemed more 
skillful, more sure, and his manner more confi¬ 
dent. Big Tim looked down at them, a hot ques¬ 
tion on his lips. 

66 What the hell are yuh fellers doin’ to that 
gent?” His voice menaced and his ham-like hands 
were swaying near his guns. The man with the 
greenish eyes looked up, his gaze fairly burning 
into the big man. 

46 1 reckon we’re a-goin’ to take care of this 
feller,” he answered in a metallic voice, 66 and 
after we get him fixed up proper like we’re a-goin’ 
to find the dirty skunks that shot him and I reckon 
we’ll find ’em if we have to clean out this man’s 


“DRAW, DAMN YUH!” 


257 


town from end to end and sideways, that’s us.” 

“ There ain’t nobody for yuh to clean out, Mis¬ 
ter,” said Big Tim, relief in his voice that Clive was 
with friends. “ That feller, him, he just nacher- 
ally killed Cougar Evans, Three-Finger Smith and 
Spook Spencer, and he put Digger Wade plumb on 
the hospital list. Shucks, that feller’s hell-fer- 
breakfast with a six-gun and I don’t reckon he 
needs no help ’cept to get hisself fixed up, and Doc 
Wattles is ’tendin’ to that.” 

The other stood up. 

“ Yuh can tell Doc Wattles we got a reg’lar doc¬ 
tor here now. That’s Blaze Ormsby here, and he’s 
a A 1 doc, too, but I reckon yore doc can help him 
some. Me, I’m Two-Gun Farrell and from right 
now through all the rest of the way, this here 
feller’s fight is mine and I’m here to finish any 
leetle thing he may have left unfinished.” 

“I’ve heard of yuh,” nodded Riley. “Yuh 
used to be a Ranger over Texas way. Well, I’m 
this gent’s friend, too, and yuh can bet yore uncle’s 
pants there ain’t no fight left here ag’in yore pard. 
Here comes that geezer with Doc Wattles’ satchel.” 

Ormsby seized on the little man’s bag of surgi¬ 
cal instruments with avid hands and supervised the 
removal of Clive to a room on the second floor of 
the Emporium. Already the bodies of the dead 
men had been carried out, while Wattles, now that 
Ormsby had assumed charge of Clive’s case, had 
turned his attention to Digger Wade. 

And so, an hour later, Clive regained conscious- 


258 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


ness and gazed into the anxious eyes of Two-Gun 
Farrell and the smiling, hopeful face of Blaze 
Ormsby; not far behind them stood Big Tim Riley, 
apparently as anxious as either Blaze or Two- 
Gun. 

Clive tried to speak, and even as he sensed that 
he could not, Blaze laid a warning finger on his 
lips and said in a low, soothing voice: 

66 No talking, Clive. You are wounded rather 
seriously and you must lie quietly and easily. 
You aren’t going to cash in, old timer, though for 
a time I was doubtful of the outcome, but you are 
going to be penned up here for some little spell. I 
think that in, say, a month, we will get you back 
to the Swinging J; it may be a little sooner, or pos¬ 
sibly a little later. Right now, you are to lie there 
and keep quiet. Now, see if you can sleep.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 
The Rustlers Depart 

Clive’s wounds were more serious than Blaze 
had hinted and for a week he tossed in the throes 
of delirium, then his splendid body threw off the 
death shadows that had hovered about it, and he 
began to mend. At the end of the third week 
Blaze declared him entirely out of danger and 
said that another two weeks in bed would find him 
with sufficient strength regained to make the re¬ 
turn trip to the Swinging J, whereupon Clive 
fought to return at once. 

Blaze was adamant, and Clive, after futile pro¬ 
test, made the most of things. At the end of a 
month Ormsby announced that Wattles could drop 
in daily and take care of Clive, and that Two-Gun 
could stay with him to guard and care for him. 

66 What are yuh plannin’ to do, Blaze?” asked 
Clive. 

66 1 want to scout around a little,” Ormsby 
answered. 66 You remember, of course, the scrap 
at the Diamond L, and that Pence and I had an 
argument which resulted in me knocking him 
down? I did that for a reason, Clive. I imagined 
that if those valley ranchers had any papers about 
them at any time, Pence ought to have some on him 
after the fire, unless he had chosen to let them bum 
259 


260 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


when his house went up in smoke. On the theory 
that if there were any papers, they would be valu¬ 
able enough in his eyes to save from the flames, I 
plugged him on the chin. I got what I wanted, 
too; a package of letters and papers, all having to 
do with the Henley people, and relating to what has 
been going on in the Cottonwood Valley.” 

66 1 recollect yuh gettin’ ’em. Did yuh l’arn 
much from ’em besides what yuh just told me?” 

64 1 surely did, and when you are able to hit the 
trail again, I believe we shall be able to rid Miss 
Forest of her enemies at a single stroke.” 

44 Tell me what yo’re a-drivin’ at,” begged 
Clive, his eyes alight with interest; but Ormsby 
shook his head determinedly. 

44 Not yet; you would only lie here and worry, 
and fume to be up and doing, and I can’t allow 
that. I promise you that in two weeks from today 
you and Two-Gun may take the trail for home, 
provided you ride in easy stages and take at least a 
week or ten days for the trip. When you arrive 
I shall try to have things so arranged that you may 
then take up the trail once more and wind this 
business up to the satisfaction of all of us.” 

44 Hell, Blaze, it’s tough to be laid up like this, 
but I reckon yo’re right. You fellers shore have 
backed up muh play in one-two style, too. Say, 
I nearly forgot; how did you and Two-Gun get here 
so dang’ quick after I was plugged that last time 
by Three-Finger?” 

We started almost immediately behind you, 


THE RUSTLERS DEPART 


261 


Clive. Had our horses been the equal of Thunder, 
we’d have arrived almost when you did. Had we 
been only a half-hour earlier on the scene, you 
would never have faced those four gunmen all by 
your lonesome, either.” 

“ I’d tell a man he wouldn’t ’ve,” rasped Two- 
Gun. 

66 How’s Digger Wade?” Clive asked, thinking 
for the first time of his only surviving attacker. 

“ Dead. He recovered from the rather light 
wound you inflicted, but was stabbed by a Mexican 
during a card game in which all hands were cheat¬ 
ing to beat hell. He is lying alongside Cougar, 
Three-Finger and Spook in Boot Hill, on the Mexi¬ 
can side of the line.” 

66 1 reckon the time’s a-goin’ to pass mighty slow 
ontil I get back to the Swingin’ J,” Clive said, re¬ 
signedly. 66 Well, so be it; two weeks from today, 
yuh old horned toad, I’m a-startin’.” 

66 Agreed,” Ormsby nodded. 66 Two-Gun, you 
be sure that it is two weeks, and not two days, won’t 
you?” 

46 I’ll ’tend to it, Blaze,” Farrell promised, and 
Ormsby was satisfied. 

Three hours later he rode out of Golfornia, 
heading northwest, and one day, more than a week 
later, he emerged from a verdant little canyon, 
down which a tributary to Cougar Creek purled, 
and out onto the broad, fertile reaches of the Box 
0. He dropped from his horse in front of the 
Swinging J bunkhouse a little before sunset. 


262 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Forest, who had seen him ride into the yard, 
was the first to reach his side, and Blaze, anticipat¬ 
ing the eager questions that were on her lips, smiled 
his slow grin and drawled: 

64 Mr. Clive Morgan will be with you shortly, 
Miss Forest. He is recovering from the effects of 
a little affair he had with four men in a town down 
on the border. Two-Gun is with him, and you 
need have no worries for him now. I made certain 
he was well and regaining his strength rapidly be¬ 
fore I left. Now, let your mind be at peace.” 

But she was not satisfied with this and bit by bit 
she drew from him the details of Clive’s clash with 
Cougar, Spook, Three-Finger and Digger Wade; 
she cried softly when Blaze described how he and 
Two-Gun had found Clive, sagged against a wall, 
gun in hand, unconscious, but still smiling into 
the face of any who might possibly be enemies, but 
whom he could not see; she thrilled at her lover’s 
gallantry and her heart gave a glad throb of antici¬ 
pation when Ormsby said positively that Clive 
would come riding into the ranch yard as fit as 
ever, and that his arrival would not now be long 
delayed. 

Then he left her, turning into the bunkhouse 
where the others, already aware of his arrival, 
greeted him with joyous acclaim. He repeated 
for their benefit the story of Clive’s encounter with 
Cougar and his friends, then got down to the busi¬ 
ness that was absorbing his mind. 

44 You fellows are going to take a ride with me 


THE RUSTLERS DEPART 263 


in the morning,” he said. 66 We are going over 
to that valley below the outlaws’ nest at Brindle- 
town.” 

66 What’s up, Blaze?” asked Bull Ellerby. 
66 Yuh figgerin’ on havin’ me heave some more 
boulders down on them bozos? I reckon yuh bet¬ 
ter not; it’s some other geezer’s turn this time, by 
cripes.” 

66 1 don’t think there will be any stone throw¬ 
ing, Bull. I surmise, though, that we may see 
some action. I believe we shall find some of Miss 
Forest’s cattle over there and also that we may run 
into some of the choicest and hardest employees of 
the Henley Cattle & Sales Co.” 

46 Say, yuh dang’ old long-horn, what are yuh 
drivin’ at?” queried Spud Garrett. 64 Yuh mean 
to say yuh got some real, honest to gosh informa¬ 
tion on that layout over there and this fixin’ here 
in the Cottonwood Valley?” 

Ormsby nodded. 

44 1 believe I have,” he answered slowly. 44 At 
least, from the information I have gathered from 
those papers and letters I swiped from old Pence, 
that valley below Brindletown is a huge dumping 
ground for a bunch of cattle rustlers who have been 
operating all through this part of the state, and 
even across the line into New Mexico.” 

44 Elucidate, Blaze,” urged Shad Stevens. 
Ormsby dropped on a bunk, rolled a brown-paper 
cigarette, and went on: 

44 1 learned that the Henley Cattle & Sales Co. 


264 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


is a stock concern. That is, it was financed on 
other people’s money through the sale of common 
and preferred stocks. In selling these securities 
the Henley promoters went on record with the 
state government and with the people who bought 
their stock to the effect that they owned every last 
foot of ground in this valley, save only the open 
range; furthermore, they gave a list of the ranches 
here that they were supposed to own, control or 
carry options on. Among these were listed the 
Swinging J, the Lazy X and the Circle Dot.” 

66 Yuh shore sound interestin’,” said Piute Allen. 

66 Now by making those claims the Henley 
people used fraudulent means to dispose of their 
stock and laid themselves open to prison terms. 
Realizing this, and desiring to make good on their 
pre-stock campaign claims, they decided to acquire 
the ranches they did not already control, and they 
have been using every terrifying means in their 
power toward this end. Miss Forest was hardest 
hit, because she was a woman, and I believe they 
would have succeeded in chasing her out of here if 
Clive had not been bitten by the wanderlust bug 
and drifted over this way. But there is still more. 

66 The Henley crowd only just recently have an¬ 
nounced that they have disposed of the Lazy X, 
Swinging J and Circle Dot ranches for cash con¬ 
siderations, giving as the reason for the sales that 
none of the three was needed or was a dividend 
payer. Of course, it is now put up to these 
crooked manipulators to show an accounting of the 


THE RUSTLERS DEPART 


265 


money received from these mythical sales, and 
that means the cash must actually he in the treasury 
when the auditors look things over. Now, how 
have they gone about getting this money? Here’s 
how: 

66 For the last two years, or ever since they found 
they could not buy the ranches of Hart, Simmons 
and Miss Forest, they have had a band of rustlers 
working far and near around Brindletown. The 
cattle this gang has stolen have been fattened in 
the valley over there and, in due time, shipped to 
the Henley people by devious routes. The sales, 
on paper, were made to a J. V. Sellers and the 
cattle were shipped to him, of course. But the 
letters show that Sellers was none other than Robert 
Frobisher Henley, president, treasurer and gen¬ 
eral manager of the Henley Cattle & Sales Co. Of 
course, the money received from the sale in the 
Chicago market of these stolen steers has been, 
and will continue to be used to make up the deficit 
Henley has succeeded in creating in the company’s 
cash account. 

“ It is a simple scheme, isn’t it? But it is the 
simple things that fool the suckers and defraud the 
public. No one, of course, ever thought to come 
out here and investigate before buying the stock, 
and the Henley crowd probably never suffered a 
single pang of anxiety on that score. They had a 
rattling good agent on this end to handle their 
dirty affairs, too. I believe you have all seen him 
here.” 


266 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


“ Who is the skunk?” asked Pink Sellers. 

66 The fellow they call Streak,” Blaze answered. 
66 You recall that he came in with Cougar, Cold- 
water and the sheep through Saddleback Pass?” 

“ Well, humped-back horned toads, what are we 
a-goin’ to do about it?” The speaker was Piute 
Allen. Blaze looked at him thoughtfully and after 
a puff or two at his cigarette, he flipped it through 
the open window and answered: 

66 Plenty, if we desire. One of the letters to 
Pence contained instructions for him to pass on to 
Streak. It was to the effect that a thousand steers 
in the valley below Brindletown were ready for 
shipment and that they were to be taken out the 
northern pass, into New Mexico, and driven up 
toward the Santa Fe Railroad. There were special 
instructions that all Swinging J stock on hand were 
to be the first ones sent out. I don’t believe Pence 
had time to see Streak, so those steers probably 
are in the valley this very minute.” 

66 Then we want to get busy and hustle ’em out of 
there,” said Pink. 66 But we got to remember that 
damn’ nest on the mounting, where all them roost¬ 
ers is hangin’ out. I reckon they’ll start things 
a-humpin’ when they see us percolate over that-a- 
way for them cows.” 

66 I’m not so sure of trouble over there,” said 
Blaze. “ Those fellows probably will not be ex¬ 
pecting us; likely they are busy repairing their 
roost, or building another in a spot not so suscep¬ 
tible to boulders from above. We must go easy, of 


THE RUSTLERS DEPART 


267 


course, cut out what Swinging J steers we may find 
and bring them through in as many drives as may 
be necessary.” 

44 I reckon us Lazy X fellers will ride with 
yuh, Ormsby,” said Monte McCourt. 46 1 wouldn’t 
be su’prised if they’s a lot of our cows over that-a- 
way. Yuh know we lost a hell of a lot of ’em in 
the last year.” 

44 You fellows will ride with us, sure, Monte,” 
Blaze answered. 44 Now, everybody get ready to 
start first thing in the morning. Six of us will 
remain here with Miss Forest; so that’s settled.” 

They left in the cool of the early dawn and to 
the surprise of those who had been over the trail 
with Ormsby on the night they had followed Clive 
and fought it out with the rustlers at Brindletown, 
he turned off across the Box 0 ranch shortly after 
fording Cougar Creek, and turned up the verdant 
little canyon with the purling stream and the rank 
growth of grass and scrub willow. 

44 This ain’t the way, Blaze,” said Spud. 

“This is the real way, Spud. We’ll be in that 
valley before night and we’ll miss that rough moun¬ 
tain country; this is the way they have been driving 
the cattle. I discovered it from what the letters I 
took from Pence contained, and when I rode back 
from Golfornia I cut into the valley under Brindle¬ 
town and came back into the Cottonwood this way. 
It is easy going all the way.” 

His words proved true, for the sun had barely 
touched the western rim of the mountains when they 


268 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


rode into the southern end of the beautiful, fertile 
valley that stretched five miles wide and twenty 
miles long between the peaks that formed the Brin- 
dle Canyon country. 

They camped out under the stars, careful that 
their fires were shielded from Brindletown when 
they cooked their evening meal, and with the first 
hint of dawn they were in their saddles and out 
in the valley, moving in scattered formation. 

66 If we stay scattered, perhaps if any one in 
Brindletown spots us he will mistake us for cattle,” 
said Blaze. 

66 Like hell he will,” snorted Spud. 66 Don’t yuh 
remember one of them geezers had field glasses? 
Reckon we’ll look like steers to the bozo that uses 
them to take a peek at us?” 

The first cattle they rode among bore brands that 
were strange to most of them, but one or two looked 
familiar. Spud Garrett swore that he recognized 
at least one mark as belonging to a huge ranch 
that sprawled just north of Benson, while another 
brand, according to Monte McCourt, belonged to 
another great ranch that was immediately west of 
Benson. 

At noon, in the upper reaches of the valley, they 
came on that which they had come to seek, for they 
rode among a herd of fat, sleek steers, all of which 
bore either a Swinging J or a Lazy X brand. 

66 1 reckon that settles things. Blaze,” said Shad 
Stevens, looking across the tossing horns and wav¬ 
ing tails. 66 We got enough evidence here to string 


THE RUSTLERS DEPART 


269 


up every geezer in Brindletown. Looks like old 
Simmons’ll save a lot of his stock, too. What’ll 
we do now? Drive ’em home?” 

The sharp 4f ping-g-g ” of a rifle answered him 
and his hat flew from his head. Like one man 
the combined outfits left their saddles and sprawled 
in the lush grass, where they raised on their hands 
and looked off across the valley to where a score 
of riders came plunging toward them, armed 
heavily. 

64 Looks like we’re in for a fight, boys,” said 
Ormsby. 66 We are as many as they, so lie low 
and wait until they get close, then cut loose and 
make every shot tell.” 

But Blaze was wrong. The riders suddenly 
veered off to the right and stormed away up the 
valley, heading toward the northern pass, five miles 
ahead. Blaze watched them tearing along, then 
rose and ran toward his horse. 

66 Come on, fellows,” he cried. 66 1 guess this 
is the end of those birds. They are pulling their 
freight as fast as the Lord’ll let them. Maybe we 
can speed their going if we hustle.” 

He led the way and his comrades thundered after 
him at breakneck speed. But their best efforts re¬ 
sulted in them only being in sight of the outlaws 
when the latter entered the northern pass and 
plunged ahead. One man, a tall, thin rider on a 
roan mare, paused long enough to wave a derisive 
hand, then he, too, disappeared into the pass. 

64 1 knowed they had a field glass,” rasped Spud. 


270 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


44 They seen us all right, and they either smelled a 
rat or they got plumb skeered. Hell of a note to 
do us out of a leetle shindig.” 

66 I’m satisfied as it is,” said Ormsby. 44 We’ve 
had enough strife. I imagine those fellows will 
scoot through New Mexico, head south and eventu¬ 
ally wind up below the Rio Grande. That fellow 
who waved was Slim Sam Tarbush; used to be a 
rustler on the Rio Pecos until the Rangers chased 
him out. Well, that’s over, so let’s get our steers 
started back toward the ranch.” 

One week later they drove four hundred Swing¬ 
ing J and nearly three hundred Lazy X steers out 
of the little canyon and across the Box 0, heading 
them toward Forest’s ranch. As they passed within 
easy sight of the Box 0 ranch house, Ormsby, Spud 
and Shad, struck by the changed appearance of 
the place, rode up to the structure and looked it 
over. 

The Box 0 ranch house was deserted of life! 

66 Looks like old Homer took a hint from some¬ 
where and skedaddled,” opined Shad. 66 Well, 
good riddance, says I.” 

64 We’ll shore have a hatful of news to spiel to 
Tex when he shows up,” grinned Spud. 64 Boy, the 
old ball cert’inly has be’n a-rollin’ since he gave 
’er that first heave, I’d tell a man.” 

By nightfall they had what was left of Forest’s 
steers, together with the Lazy X stock back on the 
Swinging J acres, and, this accomplished, rode into 
the ranch yard, dropping wearily from their broncs. 


THE RUSTLERS DEPART 


271 


And there, ten days later, came Clive; a little pale 
from his long confinement, but apparently as fit as 
ever. 

Forest had been expecting him for days and now, 
as Two-Gun and the former Ranger dropped from 
their mounts, she ran toward Clive unashamed, 
arms outstretched, and was clasped to his hungry, 
yearning heart in a straining embrace. When their 
lips parted she drew back a little and held his face 
between her hands. He saw there were tears in 
her eyes and could have wept at the sight. 

44 Dear, dear, Clive,” she whispered brokenly. 
44 My great, gallant boy; how nearly you came to 
dying just because you thought it your duty to 
avenge an insult and an outrage to me. Boy, boy, 
never endanger your life that way again. I can’t 
stand it. Oh, your poor neck; that scar will always 
be there, won’t it? But I’ll love you all the more 
for it, dear. It will seem like a badge of honor that 
you are wearing because of me, and I shall never, 
never, so long as I live, forget how you came to get 
it.” 

44 Don’t talk that-a-way, girlie,” he said huskily. 
46 Yuh’ll have me a-blubberin’ in a minute, too. 
Shucks, that scar ain’t nothin’, and I wasn’t hurted 
bad. Ask Blaze if I was.” 

46 Blaze has already told me, you great fibber, 
and I know that you came near to dying in that 
little border town. Now, you must come to the 
house and take one of the big rooms upstairs that 
I have ready for you, and make it your home; you 


272 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


must rest there and regain your strength, dear.” 

He shook his head and kissed her once more. 

66 1 reckon I’ll stay in the bunkhouse, sweet¬ 
heart,” he told her. 66 1 ain’t done anything any 
of them boys wouldn’t a-done, and muh place is 
out here among ’em. I reckon we’ll all be happier 
that-a-way, and I guess yuh onderstand what I’m 
a-drivin’ at.” 

She nodded. 

“Very well, then; but promise me this: Never 
again will you take such chances with your life.” 

He grinned and then, aware for the first time that 
the smiling riders of the Swinging J and Lazy X 
were grouped about them, he let his arms fall from 
about her slender form and said: 

“ I reckon I don’t never take no onnecessary 
chances, girlie, but I can’t promise yuh that if 
some hombre takes it into his haid to go a-gunnin’ 
for me that I won’t pr’tect muhse’f.” 

And with that she was satisfied. 

The evening meal was a wonderful affair. 
Clive, happy in the knowledge of the girl’s love 
for him and she happy because of his safe return 
to her, were the merriest of the gathering. When 
the last coffee cup was empty and the last cigarette 
rolled and lighted, discussion of the business that 
was to come was started. 

Ormsby apprised Clive of the contents of the 
letters and papers, reading them aloud, in fact, for 
all to hear; and he told of what they had found in 
the valley below Brindletown, and of the flight of 


THE RUSTLERS DEPART 


273 


the rustlers. Blaze had examined Clive’s heart and 
had given his scars a careful going over. He was 
certain that in a week Clive would have his old 
healthy body tone back and be fit as ever for what¬ 
ever might eventuate in the future. 

After much talk it was finally decided that the 
following week or as soon thereafter as possible, 
Clive and Forest should go to Chicago, beard the 
head of the Henley Cattle & Sales Co. in his den, 
and force a showdown in this range war. 

With this plan adopted, Clive, Forest and Blaze 
spent a long hour talking over the plan of action 
that would be followed after arrival in the eastern 
city, and what the demands on the Henley Company 
should be. When they finally parted company for 
the night a careful program had been mapped out 
and Blaze was certain that the outcome would 
satisfy Forest in every particular. Clive and the 
girl looked forward to the journey with uncon¬ 
cealed joy. 

66 1 never be’n east of Red River, Wyomin’,” said 
Clive, 66 and I reckon Forest’ll have to steer me 
around when we hit Chicawgo. They say it’s a 
mite bigger’n Butte and El Paso.” 

When the day came that Clive and Forest were to 
begin their trip Two-Gun Farrell and Blaze agreed 
to ride with them to Sunset, where they would 
catch their train and Ormsby, as though the thought 
had just occurred to him, said: 

66 You can’t go back there with that six-gun 
hanging on your hip, Clive. That sort of thing 


274 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


doesn’t go in Chicago. A policeman would get 
real saucy with you the first thing.” 

Clive dropped his hand to his .45 and looked at 
Blaze. 

66 Then, I reckon I’ll fix muhse’f a shoulder 
holster and shove muh gun under muh arm, for 
Chicawgo or no Chicawgo, where I go muh gun 
goes, too.” 


CHAPTER XIX 
The End of the Trail 

The girl in the outside office of the Henley Cattle 
& Sales Co. looked up at the tall, tanned figure that 
entered and her eyes lighted with interest. The 
light died, however, as her gaze fell on the beauti¬ 
ful, slender vision that stood beside the tall man. 
She became businesslike. 

44 Did you wish to see some one?” 

46 1 reckon I’m a-lookin’ for Mr. Robert Fro¬ 
bisher Henley.” 

44 Your name, please?” The girl was writing 
on a card. 

44 Name of Morgan, ma’am; Clive Morgan.” 

44 Spell the first name, please.” 

44 C-l-i-v-e, Clive.” 

44 Why do you pronounce it 4 Cleeve’?” She 
looked at him archly, invitation in her eyes. 

44 1 reckon the way I pr’nounce muh name ain’t 
got anything to do with what I’m here for, if yuh’ll 
pardon me, ma’am. Now, c’n I see Mr. Henley?” 

44 What is the nature of the business you wish to 
see him about, Mr. Morgan?” There was chill 
hostility in the girl’s voice. She had not liked 
Clive’s brusque refusal to be flirtatious. 

44 I’ll tell that to Mr. Henley, ma’am,” he 
answered. 


275 


276 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


66 Mr. Henley sees no one until he knows whether 
it is going to be worth his time, sir.” 

66 Is them the orders he gives yuh, Miss?” 
Clive’s eyes were steady and hi6 voice was level, 
but the girl at his side, holding his arm lightly, felt 
his muscles tense a little. 

“They are; now, to expedite matters, please 
answer my question.” 

“ Say, ma’am, you just sashay in to that boss of 
yore’n and tell him there’s a man, name of Morgan, 
and a gal here to see him on something that happens 
to be dang’ important to him and his’n, and let me 
know what he says. What say?” 

44 Very well.” 

The girl rose and walked toward a door at the 
rear of the room. She paused long enough to say 
over her shoulder: 

64 1 can tell you now what his answer will be, but 
I shall do as you request.” 

She returned in two minutes. 

44 Mr. Henley is too busy to see you, Mr. Morgan. 
He said that if you would drop in this afternoon, 
about four o’clock, he would see you then.” 

Clive looked at her silently, his lips compressing 
in a straight line. Then he tossed his hat onto a 
nearby chair and took a step toward the door, 
through which the girl had carried his message. 

44 1 reckon I better tell him muhse’f that I’m here 
to see him, that muh name is Morgan and that I 
got business with him,” he said. The girl looked at 
him with alarm in her eyes. 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


277 


“ Don’t force your way in there, sir. Please 
don’t. He is angry just now and there is a man in 
there with him that I suspect of being a western 
bad man. At least, I know he carries a gun. If 
you enter, perhaps they will do you harm.” 

His lips loosened a little and the shadow of a 
smile played across them. With a swift gesture 
he unbuttoned his coat and shifted a swelling bulge 
that showed beneath his left arm. 

66 1 ain’t afraid, none whatever,” he said grimly, 
and took another step toward the door. The girl 
with him said anxiously: 

“ Perhaps the young lady is right, Clive. Can’t 
we wait?” 

Clive turned to her. 

66 Now, look-a here, Forest; I come all the way 
from Arizony to see Robert Frobisher Henley, 
President, Treasurer and General Manager of the 
Henley Cattle & Sales Co. I reckon he’s not such 
a dang’ big toad in this here Chicawgo puddle 
that he can’t spare me the time I need. You wait 
here till I call yuh, which I hope will be right 
soon.” He patted her hand tenderly. 66 There’s a 
good girl,” he concluded. 

Forest dropped on a plush-covered chair and 
Clive put a firm hand on the door that barred his 
way. He turned the knob and swung it open with 
a single motion, stepping calmly inside. 

66 What in hell do you mean by coming in here, 
sir?” 

The angry query came from a short, red-faced 


278 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


fat man who sat before a highly polished mahog¬ 
any desk, talking with another. Clive closed the 
door and looked them over, suppressing a start. 
The fat man was talking to Streak, the gunman who 
had accompanied Cougar and Coldwater into the 
Cottonwood Valley with the sheep! Streak recog¬ 
nized Clive at the same instant and rose to his 
feet with a startled oath. 

Clive ignored Streak and answered the fat man’s 
question. 

“ I had to come onless I was willin’ to pass up 
seein’ yuh. Are yuh Robert Frobisher Henley?” 

66 Get the hell out of here, you impertinent pup,” 
cried the other. 66 If you don’t leave instantly I 
shall call the police.” 

Clive looked at him coldly. His voice took on a 
metallic quality when he responded. 

44 Call in all the dang’ police yuh want to, Mr. 
Henley, but afore they can get here I reckon yo’re 
a-goin’ to have a leetle chin-chin with me.” 

The fat man saw determination and menace in 
Clive’s eyes. He wilted a little as he said: 

66 Well, spiel your complaint; get it out of your 
system. You’ve ruined my morning as it is, so 
I presume I may as well humor you.” 

66 Answer muh question, first,” said the Swinging 
J foreman. 

66 What question?” 

46 Are you Robert Frobish-” 

66 Hell, yes,” cried the fat man. 46 What about 
it?” 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 


279 


A grim smile lighted Clive’s face and in three 
strides he was beside Henley’s desk. His left hand 
dipped in his inside coat pocket and drew forth 
a letter, which he laid before the other. 

66 Then, I reckon yo’re the gent that wrote this 
here leetle billydoo,” he said. 

Henley glanced down at the paper, unfolded it 
and started to read, but before his eyes had scanned 
three lines he sprang to his feet, rage and alarm in 
his eyes. 

“ What’s the meaning of this? What about this 
letter?” he shouted. 

46 Did you write it?” Clive persisted. 

Henley sensed that Clive was feeling his way, 
wanting to be on sure ground at each step, before 
he made any assertions. He decided on evasion. 

44 Maybe yes, maybe no,” he answered. 44 But 
what if I did?” 

44 Ormsby said for me not to say much ontil I 
was damn’ shore I was on the right track,” Clive 
drawled. 44 Well, I reckon I am. Yuh wrote that 
letter, all right. Now, I’ll answer yuh. Mr. 
Henley, if I sign a legal agreement freein’ yuh 
from all damage of the past, liability to future 
arrest, et cetery and so forth, at my hands or at 
the hands of the Swinging J ranch, will yuh give 
me a certyfied check for one hundr’d thousand dol¬ 
lars? And then will yuh kick out them buzzards 
yuh’ve got runnin’ yore ranches in Cottonwood 
Valley, put white men on ’em and run yore business 
there accordin’ to Hoyle, so help yuh Je-hosy-fat?” 


280 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


With an oath Henley seized the letter, ripping 
it to shreds and scattering the particles about the 
room. 

66 1 don’t know what you are talking about,” he 
growled. 44 I believe you mentioned a letter. 
Where, pray, is the letter?” 

To his surprise Clive burst into hearty laughter 
and hit his thigh a heavy thwack with his palm. 

66 1 swan, but yo’re good,” he chuckled. 46 1 
don’t recollect givin’ yuh any letter, muhse’f, seein’ 
that yuh’ve tored the damn’ thing up, but since yuh 
mention letters I reckon I got six that was taken 
from old Cief Pence, and all of ’em is real, honest 
to gosh humdingers, too; and come to think of it 
there was a order in that mess, signed by yore- 
se’f, to the effect that certain Swingin’ J cows was 
to be taken out of the Brindle Canyon country and 
shipped to J. V. Sellers, here in Chicawgo. Yuh 
ever remember writin’ any such dang’ fool stuff 
as that?” 

Henley’s face suddenly went gray and he 
clutched at his desk for support. He bent across 
the mahogany surface and whispered rapidly to 
Streak. The latter stood and clapped his hat on 
his head. Carelessly, as though he had been re¬ 
quested to depart, Streak said: 

44 Sure, sure, Mr. Henley; I’ll be leavin’ and 
show up tomorra about that business. Well, 
s’long.” He turned and strode toward the door. 
His hand touched the knob, but never turned it. 

With the snakelike movement that had given 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


281 


him his nickname, Streak turned and threw up his 
right hand, a gun clutched in his fingers. A crash¬ 
ing roar filled the room. 

But it was Clive’s own .45 that had spoken. Out 
of the tail, of his eye he had watched Streak, 
anticipating something like this. Now, as coolly as 
though he were shooting the head from a rattle¬ 
snake he struck the gun from Streak’s hand by 
the simple process of sending a bullet into his 
arm. 

Dropping his gun back into its holster under 
his arm, Clive walked over, picked up Streak’s 
fallen six-shooter and tossed it into a waste-basket. 
The door flew open and two white-faced girls 
rushed in. They were Forest and Henley’s 
secretary. 

66 Sho, now, Forest,” Clive drawled softly, 
66 don’t yuh be skeered none. A toad just tried to 
pot-shot me from behind and I plugged him in the 
arm. He ain’t hurted bad, but he shore ain’t 
a-goin’ to do no more shootin’ ontil he gets patched 
up considerable.” 

He turned to Streak. 

66 1 know yuh, Streak,” he said, “ and I reckon I 
know that yo’re here a-tippin’ off Henley to what’s 
be’n goin’ on in Cottonwood Valley and to what 
happened to his Brindletown gang, which has ske¬ 
daddled sudden like back down to Greaser land. 
And I reckon yuh also told him about Cief Pence 
and what took place at the Diamond L. And yuh 
know me, too, Streak, and yuh know what I’ll do 


282 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


to yuh if yuh try any more of yore damn’ Injun 
shootin’. Now, I got too much on you and Hen¬ 
ley to worry about either of yuh talkin’ to no police 
or anybody, so yuh better stay to hell out of this 
here argyment from now on. Sabe?” 

In perfect command of the situation Clive turned 
to the girls. 

66 You young ladies please return outside and 
wait a leetle while and,” he looked directly at Hen¬ 
ley’s secretary, 66 I’ll give yuh a leetle tip — if yuh 
don’t want to put yore boss in jail yuh won’t call 
no police in on this. Ain’t I right, Henley?” He 
looked now at the fat man, whose face no longer 
was red. 

Desperately Henley nodded, mumbling: 

64 Do not call the police, Miss Brice. It is all 
right, and you may leave us.” 

With the door closed again and Henley seated 
at his desk, Clive walked over to the chair Streak 
had occupied and dropped into it. Streak was 
sitting on the floor, nursing his maimed arm, which 
he had managed to bandage with his bandana. 
Clive calmly rolled a brown-paper cigarette the 
while Henley watched his lean, tanned fingers with 
fascinated eyes; calmly he struck a match, lit the 
paper pellet and pinched out the blazing ember; 
calmly he dropped the charred wood into the waste¬ 
basket and turned to Henley, gazing fairly into the 
fat man’s eyes. 

44 Now, Mr. Henley, you and me is a-goin’ to 
talk business a-plenty,” he said. 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


283 


A little color came back into Henley’s face and 
he breathed easier. 

44 Just exactly what do you want?” he asked 
finally. 

Clive kept his unswerving gaze on the other’s 
shifting eyes. 

44 1 want one hundr’d thousand dollars, Henley, 
and I won’t take a damn’ cent less for layin’ off 
yore hide, either.” 

44 You are either crazy by nature or a plain 
damn’ fool,” snapped Henley, getting a little cour¬ 
age back and deciding on bluster. But Clive was 
prepared. 

44 Yuh’ll either give me a hundr’d thousand dol¬ 
lars or yuh’ll go to jail, and that ain’t no plain 
damn’ foolishness, I’ll tell a man,” he said coolly. 

44 I’m not sure that I know what you are talk¬ 
ing about, Mr. — er — Morgan, wasn’t it?” 

44 Yuh know muh name well enough, I reckon, 
for yuh more’n likely have had it spieled to yuh 
by yore bunch of rusders out there in Cottonwood 
Valley. If yuh believe what they’ve prob’ly told 
yuh already about me, yuh orta know that I’m 
meanin’ business now, too.” 

44 Just how do you expect to collect one hundred 
thousand dollars from me?” Henley was more 
at ease now and reaching in a drawer of the desk 
he drew forth a fat, light brown cigar, and lighted 
it calmly. 

44 1 reckon I’ll have to convince yuh further on 
just what I got on yuh,” said Clive. 44 Listen, 


284 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


Henley; I know that yuh sold a lot of stock in this 
here company of yore’n and that yuh didn’t have no 
titles to a lot of ground yuh claimed. That made 
yuh liable for fraud. I could ’ve got yuh there, 
mebbe, but yuh covered yore tracks by sayin’ 
yuh’d sold them ranches yuh never owned; but 
that left yuh open where I did get yuh, for yuh was 
stealin’ cows and sellin’ ’em, and usin’ the money 
yuh got that-a-way to make up that deef-icit in yore 
treasury.” 

“ Interesting, if true,” agreed Henley. 66 1 won¬ 
der how you expect to prove all this?” 

66 Yuh don’t reckon yuh can deny the words yuh 
wrote to old Cief Pence, do yuh?” 

“ Pence? Cief Pence? Somehow, I don’t 
seem to recall that name,” murmured the fat man. 

66 Well, I’ll remind yuh a leetle, then,” said 
Clive patiently, yet with a mounting anger. 66 Yuh 
gosh danged horned toad, Ormsby said yuh’d try 
to pull off some slicker stuff on me, and it begins 
to look like yuh was. But I reckon I can spike 
yore guns there, ’cause I hunted up old Cief Pence, 
skeered hell out of him, and made him come to 
Chicawgo with me. I got him right here now, in 
a hotel waitin’ and he’s ready to go before any 
court of justice and make a affydavit to what yuh 
told him verbally and by letter. Now, what have 
yuh got to say to that?” 

66 1 believe you and I would better talk this 
thing over,” said Henley, his voice suddenly suave 
and persuasive. 66 There are no witnesses to our 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


285 


conversation save Streak, so I think we can be 
frank with each other. Now, to save further argu¬ 
ment, I will admit I put over a fraudulent stock 
deal, and that I organized a band of rustlers to 
make good the money I looted from my com¬ 
pany’s treasury. But if we go into court over it 
I think I can beat you. It takes money to fight 
court cases and your proof would have to be over¬ 
whelming. Don’t forget I would have a prepond¬ 
erance of witnesses, and they would be directly 
from the Cottonwood Valley, too.” 

46 What are yuh drivin’ at, now?” Clive asked, 
aware that Henley was taking a new tack. 

44 Just this: What would you say to you and I 
making a deal?” Henley rose and came around to 
Clive, who rose to his feet also and stood warily on 
guard. The fat man went on: 

44 Supposing that you give me those letters you 
claim to have, and sign a little quit notice in this 
whole affair; then supposing that I hand you for 
your trouble, a personal check for twenty-five 
thousand dol — ” 

Clive’s fist landing squarely on Henley’s mouth 
stopped the flow of words. Henley catapulted 
backwards and brought up with a crash against 
his desk. He rose, holding his bruised mouth, 
his face a literal inferno of rage and hate. With 
a curse he shook his fist at Clive. 

44 Damn you,” he cried viciously, 44 I’ll see you 
in hell now before I’ll make any sort of a deal with 
you. Go to court, see if I care. I’ll spend every 


286 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


cent I have fighting you, and I don’t think you have 
enough money behind you to carry the case any 
farther than the local courts, either.” 

66 You keep a civil tongue between yore teeth 
after this, yuh dang’ sheep nose,” cried Clive, 44 and 
I won’t hit yuh no more. Now, as far as goin’ to 
court is concerned, I reckon I will if I have to but 
somehow it seems to me that I won’t have to.” 

66 Get out of here,” shouted Henley, 46 get out at 
once, and do what you damn’ please after you 
leave, too.” 

Clive eyed him coldly. 

44 1 reckon I don’t leave without muh money or 
onless you leave at the same time in company with 
a policeman,” he said, and added: 44 1 reckon yuh 
don’t know that we raided Brindletown once and 
brought back four hundr’d head of Swingin’ J 
cows and a lot of Lazy X stock from that valley; 
now, do yuh? And yuh prob’ly don’t know that 
we took the whole outfits of the Swingin’ J, the 
Lazy X and Circle Dot and rounded up that bunch 
of outlaws yuh had in the Cottonwood Valley, 
either. We took Bender, Homer and all the rest 
of ’em, but we didn’t get Horner ontil we located 
him hidin’ out at Bender’s. Now, yuh listen to me 
chirp, Henley: Every dang’ one of them fellers, 
on a promise of freedom, has signed confessions 
and ever one of them papers pins the whole shebang 
on you direct. How are yuh goin’ to rub that out?” 

Henley’s face again blanched. 

44 Furthermore,” Clive continued relentlessly, 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


287 


“ We made it so hot for old Bender the day afore 
I left the valley that he kicked in with a sworn 
statement to the effect that yo’re the whole works 
behind that Brindletown gang that skedaddled for 
Mexico and that was robbin’ ranches clean down 
around Benson. We also got the signed agreement 
atween him and you for him to run the ranch as 
though he owned it, file a deed to it and all, the 
while yuh hold the actual ownership in yore safe 
back here and use him as a buffer to ward off any 
danger of yuh bein’ connected with his dirty work. 
Now, are yuh goin’ to be able to get around that?” 

64 Settle with him, Henley, or we’ll all land in 
jail,” groaned Streak, who had listened to the pro¬ 
ceedings with fear rising higher in his heart every 
minute. 64 1 don’t mind cashin’ in if I got the 
range under muh feet, but I’m damned if I’m 
a-goin’ to prison, not if I have to hand Morgan 
evidence myself.” 

Henley drew a handkerchief from his pocket and 
wiped his mouth, where tiny smears of blood oozed 
from his battered lips. His bravado seemed fall¬ 
ing from him. Streak’s words had knocked from 
under him a prop he had been counting on for 
support. 

44 I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Morgan,” he said, 
and Clive saw fear and subterfuge mingled in his 
eyes, 44 I’ll go into this thing this afternoon and 
tonight and see if I can scare up one hundred 
thousand dollars. You come back here at ten to¬ 
morrow morning. If I have been able to raise 


288 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


the entire sum, I’ll hand it to you then; other¬ 
wise, I’ll have to negotiate a note with you.” 

Clive laughed harshly. 

64 Yuh think I’m a-goin’ to walk out of here and 
give yuh the rest of the day and a whole night 
to make yore get-a-way in? Me? Not much, 
Henley. You and me settles afore I leave this 
room, or the police ’ll come here and take Streak 
and you down where yuh can do yore explainin’ 
to a court of justice, and among other charges I’ll 
place ag’in yuh, will be about six different murders. 
Blaze Ormsby said yuh can’t get out on no bail 
when yo’re locked up for murder, either.” 

Henley saw that he was cornered. Streak began 
reviling him and urging that he meet Clive’s de¬ 
mands forthwith, and under the strain Henley 
reached for a button on his desk. Clive stopped 
him. 

44 What are yuh a-goin’ to do?” he asked. 

44 Call my secretary and have her type off the 
agreement for you to sign, after which she will 
draw you the check for one hundred thousand 
dollars,” Henley answered, his voice weak. 

44 Where are yuh aimin’ to get that money? Yuh 
figgerin’ on givin’ me a Henley Cattle & Sales Co. 
check?” 

Henley raised his. eyebrows and gave his lips 
a soft pat with his handkerchief. 

44 Certainly,” he answered, then, with some as¬ 
perity, 44 What other check do you think I would 
give you, you damn’ fool?” 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


289 


“ Well, mebbe I am a damn’ fool, shore enough, 
but just the same I ain’t takin’ no Henley Cattle 
& Sales Co. check, and yuh can buck the old bank 
on that. That money don’t belong to yuh, but to 
yore stockholders, and they ain’t to blame for 
yore dirty work. No, sir-ee; yo’re a-goin’ to give 
me yore own personal check and it’s a-goin’ to be 
certyfied and then cashed, so’s that the money can 
be put plumb into muh two hands right here in this 
very room.” 

66 Heavens, Morgan, I don’t have a hundred 
thousand dollars myself.” 

66 1 reckon yo’re a dang’ liar, Henley. Yuh sold 
four hundr’d thousand dollars worth of stolen 
cows, and yuh on’y had to put two hundr’d and 
fifty thousand in yore treasury to fix up them 
phoney sales of ranches. That left yuh a hundr’d 
and fifty thousand and old Bender says yuh on’y 
give that Brindletown crowd fifty thousand all told. 
I reckon yuh sunk the rest of it on yore sock, so 
shell out, and do it damn’ pronto. I want to get 
out of this man’s town as soon’s ever I can.” 

66 And I will get from you in return?” 

“ From me yuh get a agreement that I personal 
like, and the Swingin’ J won’t never do nothin’ 
ag’in yuh, legal or otherwise; I’ll sign a receipt 
sayin’ we’re paid up in full for all damage, et 
cetery and so forth at yore hands. I reckon that 
orta be sufficient.” 

66 Hell’s fire, Henley; quit quibblin’ and get 
down to business,” growled Streak, 


290 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


“ I guess that will be sufficient,” agreed Hen¬ 
ley. 64 I’ll have my secretary draw up the paper 
at once.” He pressed the button. 

Miss Brice appeared, her face pale. Henley in¬ 
dicated a chair and she dropped into it, pencil and 
note book in hand. He began dictating and Clive 
smoked and listened to the fat man’s smooth, roll¬ 
ing voice. An hour later the secretary laid down 
the typed agreement and Clive, reading it, placed 
the carbon copy in his pocket. 

66 We’re all set now,” he remarked, “soon as yuh 
fix up that check. Of course, yuh understand that 
when I sign this it don’t pr’tect yuh from old Sim¬ 
mons of the Lazy X or Bud Hart of the Circle Dot, 
and I reckon they shore are a-rearin’ to get at yuh 
with violent hands. Howsumever, Simmons is to 
get thirty thousand of this money and Hart’s to get 
fifteen thousand, so the chances are they’ll let the 
thing die, onless yuh start yore crookedness ag’in, 
in which case, Lord help yuh. Yuh see, we all fig- 
gered this thing out and that was their loss, while 
we arrived at the conclusion that fifty-five thousand 
would cover our end of it just about right.” 

He paused as Henley drew a check book from 
his pocket, then added: 

66 Yuh onderstand, also, that I’ll sign this paper 
on the agreement that yuh put new men on them 
ranches of yores, that yuh take ’em over in yore 
own name, all legal and clear, and that yuh quit 
yore crooked work down in the Cottonwood 
Valley?” 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


291 


Henley nodded, his pen moving swiftly across 
the check. He blotted it and called to his secre¬ 
tary. 

66 1 want you to get this certified, Miss Brice, and 
bring it here immediately.” 

66 There wouldn’t be a bit of use a-bringin’ that 
certyfied check back here, ma’am,” Clive said, 
66 except that I’ll see it’s indorsed all proper like, 
to make everything legal, for while yo’re about 
it, yo’re to have it cashed, too, and bring me the 
simoleons in the biggest dang’ bills the bank’s got.” 

Henley’s face fell. A desperate light came into 
his eyes but his voice was smooth and apparently 
was friendly when he said: 

66 You would be crazy to carry so much cash 
with you, Morgan. Take the certified check and 
deposit it when you get home. Perhaps you don’t 
know it, but a certified check isn’t like an ordinary 
one. When the bank certifies it, it makes the check 
absolutely good. It is a surety that the money 
is on deposit and that it has been charged immedi¬ 
ately against the drawer’s account. In other 
words, it is exactly the same as cash, but, unin¬ 
dorsed, not so easy to get away with.” 

Clive chuckled. 

66 Yo’re shore one dang’ slick gent, ain’t yuh? 
But yuh ain’t no slicker ’n Blaze Ormsby, I reckon. 
He said yuh likely would try that very thing on 
me and he told me to remind yuh that certyfyin’ 
a check don’t keep the drawer from stoppin’ pay¬ 
ment on it if he’s so minded. Nope, me, I reckon 


292 


THE VALLEY OF STRIFE 


I’ll take the cash. Now, just let me see that check, 
then yore secrytary can get it certyfied.” 

Henley acknowledged his defeat with a curse and 
threw the check at Clive viciously. The latter 
picked it up, glanced at it hurriedly, then tossed 
it back to Henley. 

66 1 reckon yuh’ll have to make it out all over 
ag’in, Henley; sorry to keep yuh waitin’ this way, 
of course, but we got to have everything right and 
legal, ain’t we, Henley?” 

Puzzled and a little startled, Henley picked up 
the check. His eyes told him it was made out 
properly. He snapped: 

“ What the hell are you driving at now? You’ve 
beaten me, and here’s the check for the sum you 
demand; likewise, my secretary is waiting here to 
do your bidding as to having it certified and 
cashed.” 

Clive chuckled again, his eyes suddenly turning 
sunny. 

66 Don’t get impatient, now, Henley. Yuh got 
that paper made out to Miss Forest Glade, which, 
while showin’ yuh knowed damn’ well who I was 
representin’ in this leetle affair, ain’t ezackly cor¬ 
rect. Just write it all over ag’in, and this time, 
make it payable to Mrs. Clive Morgan.” 


The End 











































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